


The Heat Behind His Eyes - Part 2

by SonicoSenpai



Series: The Heat Behind His Eyes [2]
Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Discipline, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy cotton candy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Love at First Sight, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Obsession, Points of View, Rai’s POV, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: I do not own Lamento: Beyond the Void or any of their characters, upon which this work is based, though I adore them. I will be quoting *many* of the interactions between the characters from the game in here, so please be alert of spoilers! This should not deter you from playing it, though, as it’s a great game. Go buy the game, it’s great!The fire behind Konoe’s eyes is what first attracts Rai to Konoe in this piece of crap ficlet. He acts out of character when jumping to his defense in the forest, much to his own surprise. This work explores mostly what goes through Rai’s head when he first meets Konoe, and I’ll  see how things work out.Things diverge from the regular LBTV universe after their second meeting, however. We’ll see where it goes! Weirdly, my characters are turning out differently than expected, but I’m just going to go with it and see what happens. I added some other fetishes in this version—and it kinda threw everything for a loop, adding an obsessive streak in there I didn’t see coming. But it’s kinda fun!Be sure to start with Part 1 if you are new to this series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Visit Part 1 for chapters 1-10. I split it off recently for ease of reading, just so you don't lose your place. And I got tired of scrolling through everything to post updates, and I keep finding little errors in the older chapters, and I think I just need to leave it alone. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love any and all feedback. My first ever fan fic, so feedback, please, but be gentle! ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along the game’s narrative again, still Rai’s POV. He isn’t a morning person, it seems. It’s another short chapter, but it was terribly fun to write.

“It’s about the shaman.” I’m buckling my coat when Konoe’s voice breaks the morning’s silence.

“What?” I ask.

“Yesterday, at the grove. A forest on the other side of town. I think he’s probably there.”

The _hell_? How would he have a clue? My tail is probably indicating my doubt as I turn to face the smaller cat.

“How do _you_ know something like that?” My tone isn’t exactly patient. I admit, mornings are _not_ my best time of day, and I had a rough night. I also happen to be looking at the source of my current foul mood right now.

“Last night, I heard a song as we were coming back from that grove.” His voice is surprisingly confident, which further irritates me.

Oh _really_? “A song?” I wonder when this was.

“The Poet that I often see was there, and he sang something like this: ‘The all-seeing eye, pointing to the depths of the forest where a wise man lives in a shrine.’ And then he pointed into the forest.”

All right. So, this cat sees a poet character, wandering around the woods in the dark, who happens to know we’re looking for a shaman? Maybe this is something I should have known about _before_ now. I find my ire growing.

“What happened to him afterward?” And more importantly, why didn’t _I_ see him?

“I don’t know. When you called out to me, he disappeared.”

“Hmm.” I think on this for a moment, and check Konoe’s face. He appears earnest and believes what he is saying. I don’t think he’s doing this just to be childish or rub me the wrong way.

Dropping my gaze to the floor, I wonder if this might be part of newly awakened Sanga abilities, which is why I hadn’t perceived anything. Or, perhaps he’d been visited by a spirit who was frightened by my approach. Maybe it sensed this madness I’m fighting... I push that thought down quickly, noticing my tail is swishing back and forth.

Even so, I would have sensed something. My _guess_ is Konoe was simply overwhelmed and tired. He’d been singing and fainted. Plus, he’d cried his eyes out earlier, thanks to the birching, and then exhausted himself with sword training after that. He must be mistaken.

“I don’t believe it.”

“But I’ve seen him many times. Both in Karou and in Ransen.” His voice takes on a childish insistence. God, why am I _enjoying_ this? I should be pissed he’s arguing with me.

“Have any good evidence?”

A small stuttering noise sounds from the smaller cat. “That...” And _there_ we go! His eyes drop to his feet, almost as though he doesn’t believe what he’s saying himself.

I can’t help noticing these kittenish gestures—his actions make him look so young and naive. Is he aware of it?

However, he lifts his face to meet my glare once again. Rather stubbornly, I might add. It’s adorable.

“I don’t have any proof. That being said, I don’t think he’s an enemy. I just have that feeling.” His tone is insistent.

“Isn’t it just wishful thinking?” I ask doubtfully.

“No.” His reply is strong and argumentative. I would normally _never_ accept this tone, but, strangely, it’s giving me hope and heightening my anticipation, igniting my imagination once again. I may have another disciplinary measure to address today. I can hardly wait!

I don’t say anything. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I might sound gleeful. I continue staring him down, gauging his reaction, watching if he will break eye contact. I’m not-so-secretly hoping he won’t, in fact.

In my peripheral vision, I see his small hands clench into fists. Hmm, interesting. He’s serious!

After a few moments, I figure I’ll give him this one. Maybe this will be the springboard of the disciplinary measure I’ve been fantasizing about since last night.

“Stubborn, aren’t you.” It’s not a question.

“Either way, we don’t know where to find the shaman, right?” He tries to sound matter of fact.

He’s got a point.

“That’s right.”

“So this beats looking around blindly.” Again, trying to sound matter of fact, but ending up sounding more childish than he thinks. It’s cute.

“Might be a trap.” I’ve never met this so-called poet, nor would I trust him if I had.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We can’t make conjectures about that now.”

“... Hmmpf.” That was surprisingly well-spoken, especially from a kitten such as the one before me. It’s odd how this cat swings widely between childish and something approaching sense in a matter of minutes. But I don’t want to encourage him in his recklessness.

“Like I thought, you’ll die young.” I actually really _do_ worry about this, more than I care to admit.

“I don’t want to hear that coming from you.” At his retort, I have to smile. It can’t be helped.

We finish preparations and head back to the glade. I don’t bother slowing my pace for his sake today. This may be his idea, but we’re doing this at _my_ pace. I can feel the wheels turning in my brain, trying to work out a disciplinary plan. I enjoy it more than I care to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now—I have to figure out how Rai is going to put Konoe back in his place—or realize that isn’t really what he’s after...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along the lines of the game, only from Rai’s point of view, he and Konoe find the shaman in the shrine in the forest.

Much to my surprise, we find a hidden path in the forest, according to Konoe’s (or “the poet’s”) suggestion. It leads to a small shrine, which looks almost abandoned, hidden in the face of a cliff. After wandering through a field, I notice the tall grass comes up to my small Sanga’s face, which can’t be comfortable; but it sure looks cute... I’ve _got_ to get my head back in the game.

The shrine is a literally a hole in the wall, marked with black script outside the entrance. It looks like this so-called fortune-teller hasn’t had much business lately. However, without any other leads, our options are limited.

The surroundings give me an uneasy feeling. Before entering, I turn to Konoe to warn him. “I think you know this, but be careful.”

What I _mean_ , and what I hope he understands, is to consider everything he hears before taking it as truth. These so-called truth tellers are often _far_ from it, in my experience, and are rarely a reliable source of hard information. While they often have information pertaining to curses and such, they live in a plane of existence separate from the world I inhabit. Their ability to see “truth” isn’t as useful as they claim.

Not wanting to take any risks, I put my hand on the hilt of my sword before stepping inside, with Konoe close at my heels. I’m pleased he’s keeping so close as we walk down the silent passage. The gloomy atmosphere seems to affect him in a strange way, making him tense and jumpy. I’m glad to see he has his guard up, especially when I sense another cat’s presence.

Sure enough, we spot the cave’s inhabitant at the end of the cave, standing next to an altar in a wide, torchlit space.

“You’re the shaman who can foresee the future?” I ask boldly. Who knows? Many fortune tellers have an apprentice.

“Hou, you found me.” The strange cat, who has turned to face us, is indeed dressed like a shaman, in long robes, many ornaments, and a mask. His gray ears are tipped white—I’m guessing from age, though it’s hard to tell—but his green eyes appear sharp. “There are not many who know of this place.”

“This is interesting. Last night, something did occur in the stars,” he continues as he approaches us. I don’t trust the teasing tone in his voice. “Indeed, this must be it.”

“Answer me,” I ask again. “Are you the shaman?”

“How rude. Don’t be in such a hurry. Impatience gets nothing done. I’m sure I am the person the world refers to as such, although I cannot know.” His tone is irritating, and I don’t appreciate the condescension in his voice.

As his gaze rests on Konoe, he states, “You’re especially repulsive. What’s happened here? Let’s see, let’s see...” While his words sound rude, his actions seem interested, so I just permit him visual examination for now, but I cringe at the thought of him touching my Sanga.

“Do you know something?” Konoe’s voice is hopeful.

“Do I?” His odd reply is followed by creepy laughter. I can sense Konoe’s discomfort, as he shifts his gaze away. I keep my guard up.

I watch silently as the shaman suddenly pulls off Konoe’s hood, exposing his black ears. The surprise—and probably Konoe’s shame—puts him on guard, and his hand reaches for his sword, but he doesn’t draw. The shaman is unaffected by Konoe’s aggression, and a sharper, amused look comes into his eyes.

“Hmm. There are others as well. Show them to me.” So, at the very least, he hasn’t been hidden away from the world so long to not know about the legendary cursed cat.

Reluctantly, Konoe shows off his tail and removes his gauntlets. I find myself moving closer to the smaller cat as he removes the gauntlets. I find the idea of another cat examining his body so closely disturbing.

“Hoh-hou...” It’s almost a pleased sound from the shaman when he sees Konoe’s markings. My irritated feelings creep closer to rage, and I find myself biting the inside of my cheek when the shaman grabs Konoe’s tail and arm to examine them.

 _No one should be touching him. No one but me._ I can see Konoe’s heightening discomfort from where I’m standing, but I remain quiet.

“There is no mistake: this is the curse that has been spoken of since olden times.” With his ancient style of speech, I have to admit the shaman sounds credible, but I don’t like him. _He needs to get his hands off my Sanga._

“So then, what exactly has brought you two here?” I’m relieved to be getting down to business.

“We’re looking for a way to break the curse.” I finally open my mouth on Konoe’s behalf.

“A way to break the curse?” I can still hear that damned condescension in his voice, now mixed with something like amusement if I’m not mistaken. And I’m not.

“What an amusing idea that is! ‘A way to break the curse”? How interesting!” He laughs heartily.

“Is there a way?” There’s severe desperation in Konoe’s voice, and I worry about having brought him here. I don’t want him discouraged.

“I don’t know of one. To begin with, I don’t know whether or not it can be broken.”

“It’s a fool’s errand?” I ask. Honestly, I want to get Konoe out of this place as soon as possible. He is looking frightened, discouraged, and terribly anxious. I want to get that slimy shaman away from his pure heart as soon as I can.

“I told you not to be in such a hurry. Such an impatient cat!” I know he’s trying to raise my ire when I hear his rebuke. “Well, I’m interested, since you came all this way.” He’d better give us some valuable information, or he may not live to see the moon of shadow.

“Behind you, I see a large shadow.” _Yeah, that’s probably me, since I’m standing right behind Konoe, and I’m a hell of a lot taller than he is, you stupid cat._

“A shadow?” That precious echo—along with Konoe’s trademark confused utterance—sounds in the cave. Hearing it calms my rage a little.

“Yes. It is an incredible power that can trap your soul in its hand and shut it inside a cage.” _Wait a second. Didn’t Konoe use words just like that to describe that person he thinks is pulling the strings?_ “Do you have any idea as to what it might be?”

“Why me? What for?” That awful desperation is audible again.

“I wonder. You were born under a strange star. Your future is shrouded in darkness.” Ugh. I can’t _stand_ hearing words like this. Those words could be true for anyone. “It cannot be seen. No, rather than that, there is nothing. The future itself is empty.”

More echoing from Konoe: “Future... empty?”

The shaman nods in response, strangely smiling.

“Is it death?” Konoe’s question is direct, I’ll admit.

“It is not so. It all depends on how you will act.” Again, isn’t this true for anyone?

Surprisingly, Konoe does not seem relieved with that answer, and he looks a little ill. He sways just a bit—I lean toward his back in case he falls, but he grabs the altar in front of him. Instantly, his body stiffens strangely, a surprised noise sounds from his throat, and his hand pulls away as if it’s been burned. _What just happened? What was that?_

The shaman has noticed, too. “Ho-hou, you saw something?”

 _What?_ He saw something?

Konoe looks at the shaman in surprise, confirming that yes, he did indeed see something. This captures the shaman’s interest, who lets out another chuckle.

“What fun. Why don’t you look a little closer?” He approaches with both hands out.

“Why do you lower your ears? I won’t bite. I just need a closer look. Even if there is no way to break the curse, you won’t have visited for nothing.” With these words, the shaman throws me a quick glance.

However, when he tries to take Konoe’s hand again, my sword comes up between them. _I’ve had enough of this._

Looking at me, voice full of disdain, he asks, “What do you intend to do?”

“What you said so far is true?” I ask doubtfully.

“You believe it to be a lie?”

“I have no reason to trust you.” My response sounds icy.

The shaman takes a step back and pushes the tip of my sword away with his finger. He’s still looking at me.

“If that’s the case, I must know, what exactly do you trust in? Should it be visible? Or rather, should it have the consent of many? On the other hand, let me ask you: is there any evidence you are who you say you are? Is there any evidence that this reality is reality?”

I think I see where he’s going with this. I don’t answer.

“Maybe you have been in bed all this time, and, without even knowing it, have been dreaming for a long, long time. The world is already being overtaken by the Void, the land becoming a desolate place. However, if this world is your dream and thus your reality, it will remain so. Do you understand? What is reality, what it trust? You must decide this for yourself. It is not up to your surroundings.”

I understand what he means, and while I admit he has a point, that isn’t my concern here. My concern is Konoe, and how trusting he is. He is so childlike sometimes. I am worried about his reaction to this current topic, so I remain silent, glaring at the shaman.

“If you understand, sheathe your sword.”

Keeping eye contact with the shaman, and his hands in my peripheral vision, I sheathe my blade for now. I’m going to let Konoe decide this for himself, and I will be here to back him up.

“Overall, you are the one who must decide,” the shaman’s voice lightens when he turns to Konoe. “Go on, then.”

Hesitantly, I hear, “I...” I can almost hear his brain working.

“If you see something, I want to know. I want you to tell me.” His voice is decided.

“There’s the spirit! That is what is most important: you must not lose sight of it.” With that, I reluctantly allow the shaman to take both of Konoe’s small hands in his.

“Now, look into my eyes. Keep your eyes on me.” He uses a calm voice, which drops to a whisper. “Now then, keep still.”

I watch closely as Konoe concentrates his amber eyes into the shaman’s green ones, just for a few frozen moments, then suddenly startles in surprise. I’m relieved to see the shaman release his hands.

“Did you see something?” I can almost see Konoe’s curiosity oozing from his body.

“Four shadows,”

“Four shadows?” That cute echoing is starting again. I wonder if this is how Konoe processes information. Is he thinking out loud?

“As if they were enveloping your soul, I saw four shadows. They were not cats.” The shaman is not smiling anymore. “They are not cats. They are more wicked, more pure in soul. Perhaps—“

“Aren’t they devils?” Konoe interrupts.

Hang on—the fuck? _Four devils?_

“I believe so.”

Actually, a thought comes to mind now. I wonder if the devil I am hunting might be the cause of Konoe’s curse.

“It can’t be. You mean there are four devils?” That disbelief, the childlike tone, makes another appearance.

“At present, it appears so. Four different colors of powerful souls surround you.” What _the hell_ do they want with my Sanga? And why four? Isn’t one enough? “For the devils to cling to one soul is peculiar. Moreover, four at once is practically impossible. Perhaps your existence is special in some way. But still, there could be a presence luring them as well. It is the work of the larger shadow that’s captured your soul.”

“Who is this?” I’d like to know, too. _And beat him to a bloody pulp._

“That, I also do not know. But I did not only see bad things. There is also someone granting you divine protection.”

“Divine protection?” I swear, my heart melts a little more with every little echo of his. When did I become like this? Is it is his voice? His tone? How vulnerable he sounds?

“Yes. While not particularly big, it is a soul with great strength, a presence desired by many.”

“Do the devils have something to do with the curse?” I break my silence. The devils interest me. At least I’ve dealt with demons before.

“No. I told you it is not quite like that.” The shaman saves his disdain for me, apparently.

“Do you know where their true bodies are?” I ask further, undeterred.

“Don’t tell me you intend to fight them.” It’s more of a conceited statement than a question.

“Since I don’t know anything about the large shadow, all I can do is take care of the parts I do understand. They seemed to be alters if you look at their shadows. Their true bodies should be somewhere, too.” I’m approaching this logically.

“Are you serious?” The shaman is dumbfounded.

“Are you saying that I’m lying?” I return coldly.

“You don’t know about the devils, do you?”

“Of course. I know about their pacts.” Do I look like an amateur?

I’m pretty upset to see the shaman covering his mouth, unsuccessfully stifling his laughter. “What the hell’s so funny?”

“No, that’s funny! How interesting! How very reckless, wanting to challenge a devil! I like it!”

I’m really pissed. Briefly, the thought crosses my mind, _would anyone miss this shaman if I took him down here and now?_

“When you exit this forest, you will reach a small village. Past this village, enter the forest, and before you will appear a place filled with the light of four colors. It is a place only I can see. But...”

The shaman glances from me to Konoe and asks, “Do you get along well with this rude cat? He seems to be very devoted to you.”

“No—“ I hear from Konoe, and I interrupt.

“This guy’s my Sanga,” I state. In surprise, I glance at Konoe. _No? He said_ no _?_

“Hou?” Shocked, the shaman smiles again. “I see. He is a Sanga. Quite an odd star you were born under!”

Looking at Konoe’s face, I can see he’s more confused and discouraged than when we arrived. I want to kill this shaman!

“Do not worry so. Surely this song of yours will shake the world.” It’s a fortunate thing that old cat decides to say something encouraging on our way out. But then, he glances my way again.

“Even so, _you_ must be careful. I see it.”

“You saw it?” I’m surprised.

“I saw. Where there is light, there must be shadow. It is so with everyone.” He’d better stop talking. _Right now._ I can feel Konoe’s eyes on me.

“Now then, I can tell you no more. If you are going, then it would be better to leave quickly.”

“Let’s go,” I say, turning to leave. I’m tempted to grab Konoe’s arm and drag him out of this creepy place. But I don’t. I just start walking, leaving him to catch up. He exchanges a few more words with the shaman—I hear them discuss payment, but no money changes hands—before he turns to follow me.

I’m frankly relieved to be back out in the forest, and I’m annoyed at those last words. _Am I the shadow? Am I a danger to Konoe?_

And then, I think of Konoe’s response to the shaman’s question of whether he gets along well with me. He said no. _No_. He actually said _no_. He doesn’t get along with me?

It bothers me that he said no—but what bothers me _more_  is that I’m irritated with Konoe’s response.

More importantly, we need a plan. We have an option now—the place of the four colors. We could leave tonight. What would be the harm? But first, I need to do something to get rid of this tension, and also, get my Sanga back in line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like Rai is getting snarkier. I’m not sure why this is happening, but he didn’t come across like this in the game. But again, imma gonna just let him run with it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe and Rai return to Ransen, only to depart to the place of the four colors. Rai would like to kiss Konoe, but refrains.
> 
> FYI: I’ve used the dialogue from the game here, but some stuff is running different. Tokino makes an appearance, and Rai struggles with feelings.

We head back toward the city as soon as Konoe appears at the cave’s entrance.

My pace is fast, my strides long; I can hear the smaller cat’s shuffling footsteps trying to keep up, but I won’t be slowing my pace. I’m irritated and annoyed. I start making a list.

  * That shaman wouldn’t keep his hands off my Sanga. 
  * The shaman called out my “devotion” to Konoe. And he took full advantage of it, playing with my emotions. 
  * It’s irritating that I feel so possessive of this small cat struggling to keep up with me. 
  * While we have a goal now, I’m irritated that we didn’t find the shaman through my strength alone. I feel like I should have been more impressive.
  * Sure, Sanga and Touga are supposed to work together, and yes, he’s done well this time. So why doesn’t this feel better? What am I looking for? What do I want?



My internal reverie is temporarily interrupted by loud breathing, near panting, coming from behind me. Of course, it’s Konoe. I’m walking fast on purpose, trying to exhaust him, trying to keep him from starting in on endless chatter.

Also, I didn’t like the look I saw on his face when he emerged from the cave. He looked even more discouraged, more uncertain, more confused than when we arrived. He should be glad we have a plan. Why isn’t he?

My list continues:

  * Am I really a danger to this Sanga, like the shaman said?
  * I need more power—power, and strength—to overcome this... insanity that is within me.
  * I need this Sanga to help me find and kill that devil who took my eye. With his aid I could easily defeat him—I just know it.
  * Will I be unable to make a true bond with this Sanga? Just like I’ve been unable to make a lasting bond with any cat? I’ve never felt connected to anyone, not even my parents.
  * But this cat feels different. He has a warmth—a heat—I’ve never seen or experienced from any other being.



The huffing and panting behind me is distracting in a way I don’t want to admit. It sounds... almost _sexual_. Plus, I can smell his scent.

Quite unexpectedly, I feel a shiver run down my spine, which heads straight into my hips. I don’t vary my pace, but that breathing gets louder in my ears anyway. My hair tickles me, waving softly in the breeze, and I wonder how it would feel to have that panting close to my neck, mixing in with strands of my hair.

I roll my head on my shoulders, giving my neck a stretch and pop, and deliberately fluffing my hair out. Is it my imagination, or has his scent become much stronger the past few days we’ve been together? Is this because the approaching mating season? My imagination starts to wander...

 

 

> His breath—hot, bothered, _out of control_ —breathing against my neck.  
>  His face buried deep in my hair, grabbing a fistful, holding tight, giving it a sharp tug, because he can’t control himself.  
>  My nose in his hair, indulging in his sweet scent.  
>  My lips against his ear, my tongue searching out the soft, downy fur on the inside.  
>  My hands snaking around his body, following his narrow waist, then slinking around to his perfectly rounded backside, resting one at the curve of his lower back, and letting the other sink lower—down to that indentation where his ass and legs meet, pulling him in close to me.  
>  His breathing changes now—this young cat has no experience, and _no_ self control.  
>  He can’t disguise the pleasure he feels when I press his body against mine.  
>  He feels my erect cock against his—most likely he’s intimidated by its size, but is unable to resist me.  
>  His ear will tickle a little—it’s _adorable_ that his inexperience shows like this.  
>  His responses are so _obvious_ , so _audible_ , cute little utterances leak from his throat.  
>  The ear I’m assaulting flicks down, trying to escape my tongue, and he shrugs his shoulder, tilting his head slightly.  
>  But that move plays right into my hands—or my mouth, in this case—because before he can even blink, I take his mouth with mine.  
>  His lips are soft, full and plush—and I bet he’s never been kissed before.  
>  I will be his _first_ , his _only_ , and his _best_.  
>  I lick the outside of his lips first—which earns me a high pitched mewl, and it surprises him enough to part them for me, just a little.  
>  When he allows my tongue entrance, I trace the lines of those sharp little fangs he’s so fond of showing me.  
>  He tilts his head back when I fully enter his mouth, using my tongue to explore his tongue—small and muscular—and _resistant_.  
>  He tastes slightly of honey, like the color of his eyes.  
>  _He smells so good._  
>  His inexperience won’t allow him to close his eyes, so I can see his pupils blown wide, sexy, out of control, through my own half-lidded eye, while his mouth is being taken by mine.  
>  His breathing is coming even harder now, threaded through with purring vocalizations without meaning.  
>  Well, I understand their meaning, and I respond in kind, kissing him _harder_ , _faster_ , _rougher_ —taking _more_ of him, feeling his body and breath melt into mine, feeling his hands trying to grasp my hair and hold onto my back—but failing.  
>  He’s unable to maintain his composure—he is falling _completely_ into the kiss now, allowing all of himself to be taken, letting my breath become his, a purr reciprocating in the back of my throat, only much deeper, much lower than his.  
>  Our single first kiss... it’s a promise of what lies ahead.  
>  I’m _taking_ him, _filling_ him, perhaps frightening him a little, but it’s tantalizing as well—and I remind him of what’s to come, pulling his lower back closer against my body, feeling his stiffening cock pressing against mine, and the soft purr hopeless in his throat.   
>  All are in response to me, to my touches, to my ministrations.

I look up, realizing I’m still wandering through the forest, and I’ve got myself a _raging_ erection. The list of annoyances continues in my head.

  * That stupid cat distracts me in a way no other cat has ever managed to distract me. I’ve got to get this under control!
  * Also, I bet getting him alone in the woods would be a great excuse to work out some of these frustrations tonight.



We’ve reached the edge of the city of Ransen by now. I clear my throat, now _desperate_ to ignore the panting breaths behind me, and I open my mouth. “Let’s go to the place the shaman talked about.”

“Didn’t you say we couldn’t trust him?” I don’t appreciate the smaller cat’s tone even _one_ little bit.

“We don’t have any other clues.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Hmpf. Now you’re going to throw my own words back at me?

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You said that before, didn’t you?” After a small pause, I continue. “Let’s leave the city immediately.”

“Right now?” He sounds shocked.

“Our goal has become clear now. Staying here would just waste time. Besides, if you were attacked on Main Street, it would cause a riot. We can’t do anything here.”

I stop for a moment and give the smaller cat a sidelong glance. He hasn’t said anything for a few moments, and I see hesitation on his face. I wait for him to speak.

“When you say immediately, of course, we will need some supplies, right?”

“We will travel light,” I say. I look at his face carefully. I wonder if there’s something else he hasn’t told me. “But of course. It would be foolish to leave without the basics.”

Back at the inn, I settle our bill at reception. In the back of my mind, my overactive, heated imagination has cooled slightly since our interaction. I’m pretty sure there’s something Konoe isn’t telling me, and it raises my suspicion.

Outside, it’s nearly nightfall—the busiest time of the evening in Ransen. We head to the merchant area to stock up on supplies. I assign the smaller cat the task of stocking up on medicinal herbs, while I gather food and other necessities. We arrange a place to meet once we’ve finished—with some reservations, I allow the younger cat to make his way to the medicinal vendors.

It only takes me a few minutes to get our requirements from the local vendors. Instead of heading to our rendezvous point, however, I decide to locate my Sanga another way. He has a unique scent, which I’m able to locate easily, even among crowds. It’s probably, to be frank, a seasonal change, Antou and the mating season being just around the corner.

Closing my eyes briefly, I let my nose do the work, and I easily locate him. I make my way through the crowded marketplace, past the medicinal herb sellers—which is where my little Sanga _ought_ to be—and surprisingly find him outside a peddler’s shop. It’s not a disreputable shop—I am familiar with the owner. He and his son travel from village to village with all sorts of wares. In fact, I think this man might have helped me recover when I was originally injured by that demon.

_But what is my Sanga doing here?_

There’s a sinking feeling in my chest when I see my Sanga tenderly push the tip of his nose against the shoulder of the merchant’s son—the other cat is slightly taller, with a shock of orange hair and ears and blue eyes—and the sinking feeling turns to nausea when the orange cat nuzzles Konoe’s in return.

_Does he know this cat? Why hasn’t he said anything about him?_

I can easily keep my presence hidden among the throng on cats rushing to and fro on the busy street, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene. Is this why he originally wanted to come to Ransen?

I hear a strange popping sound when I watch the orange cat gently brush (my) Sanga’s black ears underneath his hood with his fingers. I know how soft that silky, downy fur is, and he’d better get his hands off if he knows what’s good for him... I’m tempted to reveal myself and grab Konoe by the arm, forcefully dragging him away from the scene.

But... I think I’d better wait. I feel seething rage in the pit of my stomach, and I grind my teeth as I watch the two cats exchanging words and finally repeat the tender nuzzling gesture. Thankfully, the smaller cat turns away afterward and heads back to our rendezvous point.

I’m already waiting for him, nod an acknowledgment, and start walking without a word, using a torch to light our way toward the forest.

Strangely, the second I light the torch, I can feel the young cat’s body jump away from the flame.

I’ve heard of this. Perhaps he’s one of those cats who is senselessly afraid of fire. This may come in handy later, I suppose. For now, I considerately keep the torch as far from him as is possible, without being obvious about it.

My brain is still trying to process the interaction I’d witnessed between the two cats earlier. I think I’ll have to bring it up when we stop for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, fluffy, fluff, like Rai’s tail!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai’s POV—walking in the forest with Konoe, he confronts his Sanga about Tokino and the interaction with the shaman. Rai is having issues with self-control and thinks Konoe should take responsibility.
> 
> Note: Non-con violence (spanking) in this chapter that changes into something... different. Consider yourself warned.

We’ve been walking through the forest a while when I hear Konoe’s steps falling farther behind. I’ve not been doing much to keep the distance close for several reasons:

First, I _really_ don’t want to have him panting down the back of my neck like he was earlier today. I don’t _need_ that kind of distraction. Second, I’ve noticed he has a fear of fire. He’s been keeping his distance, though trying not to show it. It’s such a childish fear—it’s tempting to tease him. I don’t know why I enjoy seeing him flustered so much. Third, and this is becoming more apparent, the distance between us has recently increased probably because he’s tired.

I’ve been trying not to think of that orange cat, whose hands and nose were wandering all over my Sanga just hours earlier. I’ll bring it up soon, all right—I just don’t want to think about it now. As we’ve been walking, I haven’t been able to determine if it got under my skin because Konoe didn’t tell me, or because it was another cat. When we stop, I’ll deal with it.

There’s a partly hidden glade off the path we’re on right now. In fact, that looks like a great place for this young one to rest his feet awhile and give me some explanations. Maybe we should rest there for the night.

They didn’t look as familiar as lovers, the thought pops into my mind unbidden. They looked more like friends or good acquaintances. However, I _saw_ the gleam in the orange cat’s eye. Glancing behind me, I can’t help noticing how childish that small cat looks and acts. Perhaps he _thinks_ they are friends, but that merchant’s son clearly wishes they were more.

“We’ll stop here for today,” my voice breaks the silence. The light from the torch guides us to a place a ways off the road. We need to be pretty far from the road—for reasons of both sight and sound, I think slyly.

Konoe follows obediently and watches me use the torch to build a warming, comforting campfire. I sit closely—I’ve always remembered reveling in the warmth of the fire—feeling like it melted something inside, perhaps meeting a need I didn’t know I had—while watching Konoe try his best not to cower from the flames.

Both of us start our evening grooming routine, Konoe starting with his arms. I’m watching him closely out of the corner of my eye, as he sits far away from the crackling fire. His pale hair looks nearly gold in the firelight, and I feel strangely drawn to the smaller cat. The contrast between those golden strands of hair and jet black fur attracts my eye in a way that I can’t explain.

But with every pop the fire sounds, I see Konoe’s ears flick around in miserable discomfort, noticing his tail is fluffed out cutely—just like a kitten’s would be—and I wonder how on _earth_ this child-like cat made it so far in the forest of the Void on his own.

Keeping my own face on the flames, I ask neutrally, “You don’t like fire?”

A heart-melting utterance escapes Konoe’s lips. He sounds shocked that his weakness has been noticed—and the sound unintentionally communicates his guilt, embarrassment, and disappointment in this shortcoming. How does he _do_ that with a single sound? It comes as such a surprise that I can’t help turning my head to observe the smaller cat.

Comparing our stances—me relaxed in front of the fire, warming my hands and tail, while Konoe leans against a tree, trying to be casual, but keeping as far from the flames as he thinks he can get away with—his fear would be apparent to any outsider. For a moment, Konoe stops grooming, frozen in place by my comment. Then, as nonchalantly as possible, which, in my opinion, isn’t at all, Konoe turns to the side, pretending to be at ease. He responds, “Not really.”

“You were avoiding it while we were walking.” I deliberately keep my tone gentle and kind. “Now, too, you’re shivering in the cold, when you could be warming yourself next to the flames.” _Or even snuggled up next to me,_ I don’t say.

Konoe’s ears droop slightly, and he lets out another one of those sweet sounds.

“I really didn’t intend to bring it up anyway,” I admit. I only wanted to let Konoe know that he didn’t have to keep up a front for my sake.

“I’ve heard that the fear of fire is an ancient trait our kind had—though it’s rare now since we cook with fire—and you’re the first cat I’ve met with this... condition.” I realize I’m being awfully touchy-feely and can’t understand why. I won’t even call it a fear in front of the young cat, What's _my problem?_

Konoe stays where he is, obviously embarrassed or possibly ashamed. _How did this cat manage so long on his own?_

“Are you hungry?” _Maybe a subject change is in order._

“Not really.” Konoe keeps his childish, pouting tone. I must have hurt his feelings. I try not to smile, but a knowing “hmpf” escapes my mouth accidentally.

The sound catches Konoe’s attention, and when he looks up, his lips screwed up into a sweet little pout, I toss him a dried kuim. I’ve noticed that those fruits are the kitten’s favorite. They aren’t native to the south, his home. As I enjoy one of my own, I wonder how he managed to get his hands on them—the thought crosses my mind as I watch Konoe take a bite.

 _So much for not being hungry,_ I think, as Konoe demolishes the fruit. That stubbornness is going to be the end of him—did he really refuse the initial offer of food because of my comments about fire?

I keep quiet for a few moments. It takes a few moments to organize my thoughts anyway. Once I commit, I open my mouth, backing away from the fire, inching toward the smaller cat.

“When we were with the shaman earlier, just before we left the shrine, he asked you if you got along well with me. Do you remember?”

Another childish noise comes from the young cat. Konoe looks up from the fire and tries to catch my gaze. I know he is trying to meet my eyes, but I keep my eye locked on the flames.

“W-what are you talking about?” Konoe sounds wonderfully flustered.

“The shaman called me a rude cat and asked you if you got along well with me. Do you remember your response?” Perhaps my tone sounds slightly dangerous, but I don’t change it.

“I-I—” the kitten is struggling for the right response. I _know_ he remembers, but he isn’t sure whether he should admit it. His eyes are full of question, and he looks beseechingly at my face for feedback.

“Don’t you remember?” I drop my voice, finally meeting those honey-colored eyes.

“Y-yes,” stutters Konoe. But he doesn’t elaborate. I pause a moment before continuing.

“Who was the orange cat you met with, in Ransen, while you were _supposed_ to be shopping for medicinal herbs?”

“Eh?!” _Gods, those sounds are just too cute!_ “W-what are you talking about?” But Konoe’s face is flushing, all the way to his chest. I wonder what color his ears were before the curse—maybe they were light? If they were, did they blush as much and as often as his face?

I move my large body next to Konoe’s, taking no notice of him shrinking against the tree trunk. “I saw you. Once I finished my errands, I saw you, and an orange cat, outside of the peddler’s shop. I think he’s the peddler’s son?”

“T-Tokino. His name is Tokino!” Konoe sounds desperate now, and the words start to flow quickly. “I know him from my home in Karou when he traveled there to peddle wares for his father. I’d buy supplies from him, he’d sometimes bring gifts, and he helped me once when I fell ill. He is a good friend. He was the reason I wanted to come to Ransen—he’s invited me to stay with his family many times, but I’ve never taken him up on it.”

The smaller cat’s eyes look a fiery orange in the evening light, imploring me for... understanding, perhaps? Patience? Mercy?

“I _just_ wanted to see him before we left,” he explains. “I didn’t know how long we’d be gone, and I was afraid I might not get a chance to see him again.”

My heart softens a little, in spite of myself, listening to such a sincere explanation. I feel a desperate need to reach out and touch this childish cat, and I indulge the urge. A little surprised by my own actions, I watch as my hand reaches out to stroke the oversized black ears, soft and silky, which immediately and defensively flick away from my touch. Undeterred, my other hand pulls the small cat close to my body for better access.

“W-what are you doing?” I hear a small protest, but I ignore it, lowering my face to the downy fur of Konoe’s ear.

“Tokino,” my voice purrs directly into the ear in front of me. My tongue runs around its outside edge. It’s thin and surprisingly delicate. Although I’ve groomed him before, this time, it feels a little different—I’m taking my time, moving slowly, paying attention to every detail of the ear in front of me, which is still doing its best to flick away, flattening itself against its owner’s head, trying to escape. “He’s _only_ a friend?”

Konoe’s shoulder shrugs up, joining in the defense of his ear’s assault. I think he’s trying to answer my question, but suddenly...

I hear a _gorgeous_ sound that is the exact opposite of childish, and it takes me by complete surprise and also takes my breath away. It’s a guttural, erotic vocalization—I never expected to hear a noise like that escape his lips. _What was that?_  It has an instant effect on my lower body.

I also notice Konoe’s scent has suddenly become more powerful, which unnerves me. I consider if I can continue with my current plan, or if I will need to make an adjustment. _Was that a response to my current ministrations, or was it in response to Konoe’s thoughts about that damned orange cat?_

When the image of the orange cat appears in my head, my temper flares, deep in my belly—but I hide it as best I can. A hint of my anger makes an appearance when my fangs scrape the tip of the ear I’ve currently sucked up into my mouth in its entirety. Another noise issues from the cat in my grasp—it doesn’t sound like a child anymore, either, and it’s beautiful. I feel Konoe’s small form squirming against me, almost as though asking for more stimulation, and _it feels so good._ I decide to ask again, the ear still in my mouth, muffling my speech.

“Just a friend, you said?” I feel a low purr in the back of my throat as I murmur the question into the ear I’m munching.

Both arms are pushing against my chest now, hard and desperate, Konoe’s neck twisted painfully to the side, his shoulder pressing firmly against my body as well, trying to escape the intrusion. While his body is trying to escape, the sounds dripping from his lips certainly indicate pleasure. And that black ear fits in my mouth so perfectly— _it’s the right size, the right texture, the right flavor, even—it just feels like it belongs there_ —so I continue grooming, roughly, ignoring all Konoe’s protests.

 _If he really doesn’t like it, he can seriously fight me off,_ the thought crosses my mind.

 _Wait—isn’t this about discipline? What am I doing?_ I’m feeling a bit distracted myself, and I’m irritated by the distraction. I’m feeling manipulated, that another cat has this kind of power over me—and it isn’t even mating season! _What the hell?_

He is probably doing this on purpose, probably to get out of any further discipline. He hasn’t answered my questions directly, either—the fact that Konoe might not be able to answer because he too is terribly distracted by the liquid, squishing sounds in his ear, as well as the response from his body, doesn’t cross my mind. Why doesn’t this feel like when I groomed him before? It’s completely different!

“Let me go!” Konoe tries to shout, but the end of his sentence ends in a sigh.

“You,” I say, the ear pulled out of my mouth, and the tip clamped between my lips now, “Answer my questions first. You’re being terribly stubborn.”

“I-I... w-what questions?” comes a small voice, from the struggling form in my arms. “S-seriously, what are you d-doing? St-stop it!”

I can’t help noticing that each of each stammered word come from when my lips, tongue or teeth make a move against that silky ear I’m playing with, and I love the response. In fact, I might be messing around and making him stutter on purpose.

“I asked, first, if you remembered what response you gave the shaman when he asked about your relationship with me.” I give the ear another lick, this time on the outside of the shell, and I feel a delightful shudder go through the spine of the small cat. Then, I switch to the other ear.

“Second, I asked about the orange cat you met up with in secret. Are you really just friends or something more?” Sucking the other ear into my mouth, I’m awarded another _wonderful_ sound and a sharp intake of breath. “And does he know you are only friends? It looked like he was looking for something more.” My teeth graze the edge of ear again. _I could do this all day..._

“Third, if you don’t like this, just bite me and get away.”

“A-ah, hah,” Konoe’s response is almost unintelligible. “Tokino is just a friend. We’ve been friends since I was young, and my mother was still living.”

“I think you are leading him on,” the whispered accusation sounds dangerous when purred in his ear. “So why did you sneak off without telling me?”

“B-but, n-no! I d-didn’t,” Konoe stiffens up, obviously worried.

“And the shaman?” I’m expectant, my voice low and whispering. “See? Here’s what I think. I think you deliberately rejected me in front of the shaman to try to humiliate me and reject my authority. Then, you sneak off in the city, trying to hook up with a secret lover—or someone you’re leading on, anyway.”

“N-no!” He’s desperate now, in more ways than one. “That’s n-not it! I m-mean, even if I could control what Tokino was thinking, which I can’t, I wouldn’t want him to like me in that way! We’ve never been that to each other!” The small hands have suddenly stopped pushing against my chest, however.

“Oh?” I stop for a moment, licking my lips. “Why is that?”

“We are just friends, and I’m not interested in him like that.”

“And what about the shaman?”

There’s a moment of silence now. Konoe isn’t struggling anymore, and I stop my ministrations of Konoe’s silky ears. _Although... I could do this all day..._

“Well?”

“Um, I’m sorry,” Konoe is looking down at his feet. “I was angry. Confused and angry. I thought I’d feel better after seeing the shaman, but I felt worse. I took out my anger on you. I’m sorry. It was wrong. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Oh?” I stretch the sound out a little. I pause for emphasis, then continue.

“I’m not sure that is good enough.”

“W-what?” Another gasp issues from the cat in my arms, and I squeeze him tightly.

“I think we should use this situation to our advantage, however, and make it into a teachable moment.”

I feel the kitten cringe.

“Three important points.” Matter of fact statements, spoken very deeply, directly into the damp ears, which I am now desperately trying not to lick.

“First, remember what we discussed last night, during training? I’ve picked up your burden with you—and I am sharing it equally. You are not alone. Even if you were discouraged, overwhelmed, and confused after the visit with the shaman, you should have spoken to me. Your burden is also my burden. We have a goal now, and it’s a common goal. There’s no need to feel alone, or isolated, or like the tragic hero of some legendary curse. As I said, if you have time to think about that, focus on the task at hand, or train to get stronger. Practice your song. Your biggest enemy is you.”

Konoe looks up at me, eyes full of awe, filling with hope.

“Second, I’m your partner and trainer. Even if you don’t intend it, you may lead another cat on without meaning to—and that is your fault. You have to take responsibility. If you want to meet up with a friend, tell me. I’ll come with you. Otherwise, who knows what might happen next time. Ransen is a city, and it’s not like Karou. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”

Konoe’s eyes drop to his feet. He looks embarrassed and ashamed.

“Three, I’d like for you to keep your tone respectful, even when you are afraid or angry. I’m always willing to listen to your ideas—for example, going back to the glade where we practiced bore fruit, and we found the shaman, thanks to this poet friend of yours. But when we discussed it this morning, your tone was... stubborn and disrespectful. And also when we left the shaman’s shrine, you were fearful and disrespectful.” I pause again.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you? What do you think would help you learn these things? I have a pretty good idea, but I don’t think you will find it very pleasant. I’m open to suggestions.”

Konoe stiffens his body against mine—even still, his form just feels like it _belongs_ there—and I wait for a response.

“You seem to respond very well to physical reminders,” I continue. “I think a physical lesson would be an excellent way to enforce what you’ve learned today.”

_Plus, I’ve been frantic to get my hands on you—ever since this morning. This is the perfect excuse._

I hear Konoe make a protesting sound.

“I’m open to feedback, kitten. Do you have a better idea?”

“I won’t disrespect you anymore, I’m sorry,” a flurry of words spills from the cat on my lap. “I didn’t mean to give Tokino any ideas—I don’t know anything about that sort of thing. And I’m sorry I said that to the shaman. I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said it. I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again, but we don’t need to do this, you don’t need to do this...”

The young cat still has words and excuses pouring from his mouth as I lead him by the hand to the fallen tree trunk, where I have a seat. A sense _incredible_ wellbeing comes over me the moment I stretch his lithe body over my lap—and I feel only a slight twinge of guilt with that sense of wellbeing, but I ignore it. _Why does this cat make me feel this way?_

Compared to the other times, he isn’t struggling nearly as much as I push up his sash. Relishing the movement, I lower Konoe’s pants and underwear—the stream of words rushing from Konoe’s lips increases in speed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I trust you, I know you mean the best for me, I just don’t think this is necessary, I wish you wouldn’t do this, I don’t think it works, I will do better next time, and I don’t feel comfortable with this, and—“

The intake of Konoe’s breath is sharp as soon as the cold air touches his bare skin, and I run my hand over that skin, the sense of peace settling deeper within my chest—and I feel my pants tighten significantly as my cock stiffens. Konoe’s struggling on my lap isn’t exactly helping that situation.

Konoe’s voice rises in pitch, and he starts to beg. “Oh please oh please oh please _oh please_ ”

Is it the begging and pleading that I find so tantalizing? His voice? His perfectly compact body? I lean forward, over Konoe’s head, giving both of those oversized, silky soft black ears a long, slow lick—and shockingly, I feel Konoe’s cock harden against my lap.

_It feels so good. Oh, my gods, he feels good. What I wouldn't give to go a little further than this..._

“It’ll be fast. Not painless, but quickly I can promise. You just learn so well with your body—it’s your own fault,” I purr sweetly into his ear.

The first swat comes down—and because it’s on bare skin, right on the sit spot, Konoe gives a loud yell—a sob, really, with tears closing in fast.

The second is close behind the first, followed by the third, fourth, and fifth—smack, smack, smack, smack—in rapid succession—too fast to get in a breath or let out a sob. But the tears come, sobs come, all at once, and his small hands appear close to mine, trying to protect himself from the next blows.

“This won’t do,” I murmur, taking both of Konoe’s hands in one of mine and pinning them to the small of his back, simultaneously grabbing the base of his tail. This makes Konoe arch his back beautifully, which makes his ass stick out even further, and gives me the perfect opportunity for the next spanks. They are perfectly aimed and hard. The spanking sounds loud in the forest night—and it gives me a surreal sense of power—and that sends even more blood rushing to my lower half.

Watching Konoe’s skin change from pale white to pink, and then from pink to red; watching the round muscular globes shimmy and jiggle just a little; watching his legs try to predict and defend against the incoming blows; watching as the smaller cat struggles and then _finally_ —reluctantly— _but oh so beautifully_ —submits to the punishment... I haven’t ever seen anything more beautiful, as his tears drip to the ground, and his soft, earnest sobs and cries sink into my ears and my heart.

It isn’t that I want this kitten to cry, though his tears are gorgeous; I love just his response to my touch. After admiring Konoe’s submission—for more than just a few moments this time, I admit—I slow my hand.

I mean for my hand to stop spanking, and stop touching, but something happens. I can feel Konoe’s dick, fully erect against my lap. Instead of stopping my hands totally, I keep his small hands pinned at the base of his tail and begin to move my hand—rubbing hard, right at the base, just a small motion. The fur on his tail fluffs out instantly—and it’s _beautiful_.

I move my other hand over that cherry red ass, smoothing and soothing down from the lower back first, then all the way down to his sit spot—it’s hot to the touch—right between his cheeks. I notice Konoe’s cries and sobs have become something else entirely. That gliding touch elicits a noise that can only be described as indecent. I feel the smaller cat, rubbing himself—rubbing his crotch—against my lap—pressing himself against me, the most amazingly lewd escaping his lips.

 _Oh gods, the feeling of this cat against me_ —I part his legs with my hand, and gently bring one of my knees up against his crotch, wringing another salacious moan from him—the young cat moving compliantly. I sit his lithe body up against me, pushing his nude lower body against my own hard, clothed cock, letting my knee press between his legs.

Konoe’s face is flushed so deep it’s nearly purple—his eyes are half-lidded, unrecognizable from the pouting, childish face I’d seen moments earlier. I can’t control myself— _I want to kiss him, I have to kiss him_ —and I fiercely press my lips against his.

I hear and feel Konoe sigh into the kiss, and it’s even hotter than my vividly imagined fantasy from earlier, feeling his compact body melting against my own. Those lips _are_ as soft and plush as they look—like his ears—and surprisingly, they return my enthusiasm with fervor.

Small fangs press painfully against my lips, so I open my mouth more, running my tongue along teeth much smaller than my own. Konoe’s mouth welcomes the exploration, sighs spilling further into my mouth, breathing mixed with soft, irresistible purring from the back of his throat. I stroke my tongue along Konoe’s, and when I release his hands, he wraps his arms around me suddenly, another desperate noise coming from him—a voice much too adult, too lewd, too urgent to belong to the small, rebellious kitten on my lap. The sound makes my ears perk up, my tail fluff out, my senses kick into overdrive, a shudder coursing down my spine. The smaller cat’s tongue is incredibly muscular and lean—compact, perfectly proportioned—just like the rest of his body—and as I stroke it, the shivers along my own spine continue, and also, rather fantastically, the cat in my arms. With each slow stroke, Konoe rewards me with a deliciously lewd purring sigh, offered right into my mouth, and grabs onto my arms as though he fears falling.

I’ve kissed other cats before, but none have felt this intense—but in the middle of moving my tongue back to the outside of those soft lips, my ears twitch suddenly to the right. Someone is watching us. Off in the distant trees, I sense another cat’s presence—and I realize immediately that it isn’t friendly when I sense a sudden bloodlust.

In a matter of several seconds—the most painful of my life so far—I gently move the kitten from between my knees, pull up his pants ever so gently—maybe I’m a little handsy with his probably painfully hard cock—and move my body in front of him. It’s physically painful to hear his small protests—he wants to _stay_ , he wants to keep kissing—and we stay connected as long as we can, even while I am redressing him—I _need_ to keep kissing him.

“Wait, no, stop. I want—“ the breathless words spill from swollen lips. “What are you doing?” Broken and sighing, Konoe’s eyes are half-lidded, and he is not himself—looking drunk or semi-conscious—but definitely not himself.

 _Oh, gods, that bastard who just interrupted that amazing experience is about to experience the extent of my full wrath._  I cannot believe what just happened, and how we went from discipline to _that_ in a matter of seconds. But oh, what I wouldn’t give to get back there right now because I am _not_ finished, we were _seriously_ interrupted, I want his _heat_ , and man, my pants are too fucking  _tight_. I am so angry that my usual bloodlust has quickly reached its boiling point.

However, my anger cools sensibly once I feel an incredibly foreign bloodlust pulsing from the unknown presence in the forest. Instead, my usual fighting spirit takes over. I draw both my dagger and longsword and assume a fighting stance, assuring myself Konoe is safe, and I wait for the enemy to show himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai’s POV- along the line of the game - when Asato meets up with them in the forest, mistaking Rai for a Kidnapper. He doesn’t make a good first impression.

I steady my breathing as a shadow leaps out the forest in front me. A cold feeling of bloodlust pulses out of the shadow in waves, a longsword crashes down from overhead. I catch it from beneath, although not as easily as I expect—I’m surprised by the strength behind the blade. I am able to meet the fighter’s next moves blow for blow. He moves quickly and elegantly, no hesitation in his steps, light-footed and sure of himself.

His moves are much different from other fighters, but I can’t quite place his style—it seems very foreign. Almost like a cat from... Kira? But what would a cat from Kira be doing here? I notice his black ears and tail, dark skin, and a tattoo on his arm, however—just like a Kira cat would have.

As the swords clash loudly, I suddenly hear my Sanga yell something I don’t understand. What did he say? “Asato”? I see the enemy’s ears twitch in response.

Now, he’s yelling at me to stop fighting! What the fuck? First, he _doesn’t_ tell me what to do. Second, he doesn’t interfere in the middle of a battle. Third, I’m _protecting_ him. Fourth, he is going to get himself killed.

Strangely, however, the black cat freezes, as though he’s listening to that stupid cat. I take my chance and hit him from above, knocking the blade cleanly from his hands.

“Asato... is it you, Asato?” My skin crawls, hearing tender recognition in my Sanga’s voice. Does he _know_ this guy?

The deep blue eyes glaring at me turn to face Konoe. I can see the tension release from his body, from just a single look at my Sanga, and I don’t like it. _Not one bit_. Who is this cat? What the hell?

Konoe sits up, meeting the black cat’s gaze.

The tall, lean cat looks at Konoe in confusion. He doesn’t attack, however, and when he finally opens his mouth, he speaks in a strangely childlike voice. “Why?”

One of those strange, confused utterances falls from Konoe’s lips. While I adore those little noises he makes, this black cat does _not_ belong here. I point the tip of my blade at the enemy, who, quite irritatingly, ignores it.

“Who the hell is this?” I can’t keep the iciness out of my voice. “An acquaintance of yours?”

Konoe nods at me.

“This acquaintance of yours is an idiot who pounces on anyone without even _thinking_?”

My Sanga looks displeased at my remark, but he turns to his acquaintance, who is staring him down as though he is bursting with questions, and also something a little more... intimate. Forget it, idiot! This cat is _mine_!

Suddenly, the idiot’s voice changes—filling with pain, he clasps his hand over a wound on his shoulder and shamelessly calls my Sanga’s name. Hearing my Sanga’s name from _that_ cat’s mouth—even if his voice _is_ laced with pain—fills me with rage.

I glance at Konoe, whose face is full of concern. I’m irritated to see him upset because of this stupid cat who attacked me for no reason—I know I didn’t cause that injury, yet he was dumb enough to attack me while already injured. Who _is_ Konoe to him? I don’t even want to think about it. A feeling of disgust in my gut riles me up.

Konoe has noticed the blood dripping from the black cat’s shoulder. He asks, “Are you hurt?”

As if on cue, the black cat collapses to the ground with a groan. I try not to roll my eyes at the scene and fail. Hell, this is a ploy for Konoe’s sympathy if I’ve ever seen one—and I have to admit, it’s a _hell_ of a good one. Damn it.

“Asato!” He keeps calling that bastard’s name. I can’t remember ever hearing him say mine. To make things worse, he holds the wounded cat in his arms. I notice the black cat’s expression, looking pained, brows knit tightly. _Nice work. Asshole_.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I’m sure you are, in my Sanga’s arms like that. Got what you came here for, didn’t you?

I watch as Konoe uses _our_ water to wash out this guy’s wound. Now, he’s using _our_ medicine to treat him, too.

“Is it seeping in?” Konoe chews it up before applying it. Pretty intimate, I think. The injured cat looks pained as the herbs are disinfecting his shoulder. Good. I hope it hurts like a _motherfucker_.

“I’m okay.”

I figure I’d better just be direct, so I calmly ask, “You intend to help him?” I courteously leave out the part about him using all our supplies.

“Of course!” My Sanga’s voice sounds surprisingly contrary. Hmm. I’m not sure I appreciate his tone.

“He can’t be trusted. Leave him.”

“He helped me once. Besides, he was hurt and probably just felt cornered. He’s probably being chased or something.” Again, his tone is _completely_ out of line. Am I going to have to deal with this attitude again so soon? It’s fine—I _really_ don’t mind at all.

“He won’t hesitate to kill. It’s in his eyes.” I know that look very well.

“So...!” And another one of those noises comes out, this one sounds frustrated. I realize that my Sanga is pretty serious. He’s totally glaring at me. There’s that heat again. I really _love_ seeing it—it warms my very core.

“Enough. No matter what you say, I’m helping him. If you want to leave, you can go by yourself.”

Wow. What an ultimatum. He breaks eye contact with me then—I bet he realizes what he’s just gotten himself into—and turns back to his little friend.

I’m surprised he’s gotten himself this worked up over such a foolish cat. I mean really—if that black cat was really that seriously injured, how _stupid_ would he have to be to attack me like he did? What was he thinking? That I was kidnapping his friend? And if so, what is _exactly_ is Konoe to him? And why are they calling each other by name like that, when he won’t even speak kindly or respectfully to me?

I let out a disgusted huff, which gets his attention, and he locks that warm gaze on me again. Why does he make me feel this way?

“Both of you are stupid cats,” I say frankly.

I see the injured cat bare fangs at me. Stupid animal. To my surprise, Konoe’s tells him to knock it off.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why?’?”

Casting a glare in my direction, the injured cat says, “This guy is an enemy, right?”

“You’re wrong. He’s not an enemy.” Konoe shakes his head.

“Wasn’t he trying to kidnap you?” Ah hah, I guessed it! Right on the nose. What an idiot.

“No.” Konoe’s voice ends with a sigh.

At this point, I can’t stand it anymore. “What an _utterly_ stupid idiot.”

The black cat growls at me again in response, and Konoe looks at me in frustration, “Stop that! Asato, you calm down, too.”

I back off from the two, leaning against a tree trunk. I figure they will want to catch up. I try not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it’s hard not to. I look off into the fire, casually, so as not to appear interested. I don’t hear everything word for word, but I can make out the basics, such as Asato not being allowed to return to Kira. _Shit_. I can see where this is going, even before I see those amber eyes turning in my direction.

“Asato’s coming too.” He sounds insistent.

“Oh?” Over my dead body.

“Asato can’t go back to his village anymore. He’s just like me. And besides, he’s strong, and he could probably match you in a fight.” His arguments are flowing quickly now.

“I wonder about that.” I briefly glance at the injured cat, and he glares back at me, growling and baring fangs.

“You. I feel something unpleasant coming from you. What _are_ you?”

What _the fuck_ did he just say to me?

“Stupid cats shouldn’t speak.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Sure, Konoe. He sounds like _just_ like you. _Great_ idea to bring this crazy ass cat with us. He’s going to kill us both in our sleep.

“Hey!” Konoe says, frustrated. He puts his hand on Asato’s chest. He sure is free with his touches, there, isn’t he? Fuck this shit. I turn away in disgust, and I hear a deep sigh.

I need to get away from this scone and figure things out. I feel weirdly frustrated and unsure. I mumble that I’ll stand guard till daybreak—I’m not going to sleep anyway—and I climb up a tree where I can get a good view of our surroundings.

As it happens, I also have a clear view of my Sanga down below. He’s sitting his usual safe distance from the bonfire, still closer to the injured cat than I’d like. So far, they aren’t talking—and they don’t notice me watching them. I wonder how they met, and exactly what sort of debt my Sanga owes the other.

If this cat is from Kira—and he probably is, based on his appearance, his fighting style, and the fact that he can no longer return to his village—Konoe must have traveled to there in search for a cure. In fact, I wonder if that’s where he was headed when I first met him after I saved him from those bandits.

I find it hard to believe that he could have found Kira on his own. I’m not sure why, but something about him tells me he doesn’t have a great sense of direction. It’s possible he accidentally stumbled upon it, but what are the chances of a cat accidentally stumbling into Kira, being admitted, and then being allowed to leave? It’s a village of recluse cats. I know that once a cat leaves, they are never permitted to return, and may be hunted down and ruthlessly killed, just for desertion.

My gaze falls on the lanky black cat, recovering close to the fire. His ears are lowered in apology, and he is speaking to Konoe in a low voice. My Sanga responds gently—I can hear his tone, soft and encouraging, drifting in the night breeze.

I _love_ the sound of his voice. It soothes me. I don’t even need to understand the words. And yes, it irks me that he isn’t speaking to me and that he’s reserved this gentle tone for this strange cat. However, it crosses my mind—only for a moment—that perhaps this black cat saved his life. If he did, I should be grateful, too, or I wouldn’t have met him a second time, and he wouldn’t be here now. I find myself unable to imagine a world without that reckless young cat in it, despite the fact that I’ve only just met him!

I’m not neglecting my duties as watchman while I’m being lulled by that voice, really. I just find it enchanting. I can still sense other sounds out in the forest. So just for a few more moments, I’m just going to listen to its sound, let myself absorb it, just feel it.

Then I can get to the complicated task of what _the hell_ I’m going to do about discipline. I am at a loss right now—I feel like the issue with the merchant’s son completely pales in comparison to this... Asato situation.

As I remember it, didn’t he hesitate, just a little, when he first decided to come with me to Ransen? I can picture it in my head—but I’m almost sure. I wonder if he had been traveling with the black cat and was separated, and he was hoping he’d show up at the last minute.

If he was, why didn’t he say anything? Why doesn’t he trust me? Maybe that’s what the issue is here. _Trust_. He needs to trust me enough to tell me what is going on.

A thought briefly crosses my mind—what if they are a couple? My chest starts to ache when the thought occurs to me, and once that feeling comes into my head, it won’t go away. I don’t know how to stop thinking about it!

I don’t know how to compete in this kind of situation. Well. I have an idea. But it would involve _killing_ the black cat. I’m not sure that would be the best solution, and I think my Sanga might resent me for it. So what should I do? I could just ask him about the nature of their relationship.

For some reason, I feel like Konoe has made a fool of me, and I don’t know why. I don’t _like_ this feeling, and I don’t like worrying about the nature of his relationship to that black cat, either. Before the night is over, he and I are going to hash this out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Konoe’s POV, he and Rai have to duke it out over Asato. It goes much better than Konoe expects, since Rai is in a mood to negotiate. This is original plot—not from the game.
> 
> Notes: Cotton candy-esque fluffery in this chapter.

“Oi.” His deep voice startles me—I nearly jump out of my skin. _How did he manage to sneak up behind me like that without making even a small sound?_ Not even a leaf crackled under his foot.

I’m exhausted—I spent the past hour catching up with Asato, who is asleep now. He’s really had a hard time out there—and it’s all because of me. I feel so guilty. Why would did he put himself on the line for me like that? He doesn’t even know me.

When I look up at Rai’s face—and he’s purposely standing close enough so I have to crane my neck to look at his face—he looks really unhappy. He’s wearing the same scowl since Asato first joined us. Well, let’s be honest: since Asato first _attacked_ him earlier this evening. I knew this was coming, and probably before the night ended. I just can’t leave Asato alone on his own to die! I won’t. I made a promise to him before I made any commitments to Rai—and besides being his Sanga, what am I to him? I guess that’s what we’re about to discuss. Just not in front of Asato. Gods, what if he lays his hands on me again, and Asato sees? He’d flip out! Or... what if he wants in on the action? A shiver of fear goes down my spine.

“I’m tired. Do we have to deal with this tonight?” I can’t help noticing that Rai is watching me very closely. I wonder if he noticed my shiver just now.

“That depends. But I think there may be an easy fix. Plus, I’m in the mood to negotiate.” His voice sure doesn’t _sound_ very flexible.

“Eh? What? Now? Right here?” Sweat breaks out all over my body, but especially the back of my thighs.

“That’s up to you. I’m fine having our... discussion here. But you might prefer a little more privacy.”

Ugh, here we go. Isn’t there a way to get out of this? I’m annoyed. I mean, I guess I get why he’s mad. I wouldn’t want to be attacked out of the blue, either, but he needs to have a little more understanding. Asato is just... _different_. What should I do? He said he’s willing to negotiate. That’s a first. What the hell does he mean, I wonder?

I feel something on my chin, and I’m surprised to feel Rai’s hand on my face, tilting it up so I meet his eye. His ice blue eye is focused, and that scowl isn’t as severe as I thought it was. And he’s standing awfully close to me. I can smell his scent, and he smells _so_ good. I’m not sure what it is, but he smells strong and clean, just like he looks. I’d _never_ say so out loud, of course, since I’d never live it down, but I love his scent. I think it’s one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place.

“So. Here?” The question-not-question is posed in a quiet, but demanding way. It looks like we are doing this now. I just hope he means it when he says negotiate because my ass is still stinging from his last “lesson.” Even just thinking about it makes my hand subconsciously reach behind me and give myself a comforting rub. _Shit! Did I really just do that in front of him? Shit! Maybe he didn’t notice?_

I raise my eyes for a quick peek. The corners of his mouth are slightly curved up, not a trace of the scowl left on his face. _He saw me. Shit._ But... his eye is sparkling warmly in the moon of shadow, its pale light softening his features. He’s a beautiful cat—handsome and elegant. _Why on earth is this cat wasting his time here with me? He might die because of his association with me._ I feel a slight pain in my chest when I see him looking at me like this, and tears burning in my eyes. _And why does he have to smell so good?_

“Not here.” I’ve made up my mind. “Asato needs his rest to help his wounds heal.” Something dark flickers across Rai’s face when I say the black cat’s name. _Strange_.

Rai gives a slight nod and turns on his heel. He walks a short distance from the camp, continuing away from the main road into the forest, and I follow. His tail is swinging left and right—its fur smooth and fluffy. I wonder how much he has to groom to keep it looking like that. It’s never dirty—always clean and pristine—gorgeous under the moonlight.

In a short while, we come to stop in a tiny clearing. There’s an opening in the thicket, so the moon breaks through a little more brightly, a patch of clover in the center of the clearing. Rai sits on a tree stump at the edge of the clearing, and he motions for me to sit in the grass. I comply, crossing my legs and then bending my knees, folding my legs beneath me. The patch of clover is actually just big enough for me to lie down in—and I’m tempted to do just that since it smells so fresh—and I want to eat some while I’m here. I pick one and pop it in my mouth. Rai watches, a little surprised.

“You eat that stuff?”

“It’s delicious and sweet,” I explain, surprised he doesn’t. I run my fingers through the grass in front of me for the largest, juiciest leaves I can find. I pick a large stem and hold it out to him. “Try it. It’s good for you, too. Makes your fur lush and shiny. In Karou, there wasn’t much to eat, so we did what we had to do.”

“I see.” Rai takes it from my fingers—which tremble just a bit when he brushes their tips with his. _Did he do that on purpose?_ He carefully sniffs it and then takes a small taste. “Hmm.”

I look at him with anxious eyes, hoping he likes it.

He returns my gaze with a confused expression.

“Well?” I ask, expectantly. “Is it good?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Hmm.” I guess that’s as much as I can hope for, so I’m pleased. My tail is bouncing around all over the place, embarrassingly happy.

“You’re a _ridiculous_ cat.” Rai is still looking at me. “Your emotions show all over your face, as well as all over your body, and you don’t even make an attempt to hide them.” Then, in a much quieter, thoughtful voice, almost as though he is speaking to himself, he adds, “You’re like a child.”

“So you said you wanted to negotiate,” I start, eager to change the topic from my childish behavior.

“Tell me what debt you owe this black cat.” His voice is slightly colder now.

Starting from the beginning, I tell Rai about fighting Asato outside Kira, about how he brought me to the village elder, put me up for the night, and helped me escape when the villagers attacked. Then, how he put his own life on the line to escape with me, even when it meant betraying his own people as well as sacrificing his home. Rai doesn’t speak in response to my story, but he listens closely, nodding now and then. Reluctantly, I add the latest pieces I’ve learned, that Asato saved me once again by using himself as bait to draw pursuers away from me while I was sleeping, getting himself injured in the process.

Again, I notice darkness flicker across his face each time I say Asato’s name. _It definitely isn’t my imagination._

“What did you do with him while you were in Kira when you spent the night?”

I’m confused by this question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was only the two of you in his room, or am I wrong? After this night, the black cat became very attached to you. What did you do together, or what promises did you make? Did you touch him?”

Taken aback by this line of questioning, I’m appalled.

“N-no! _Nothing_! Nothing like that happened!”

“Oh? And if I asked the black cat, what would _he_ say?”

I pause for a moment. What _would_ Asato say? He did make a strange comment at the time, didn’t he? Something about my eyes? Something about my tail? Wait—I complimented him on his own tail, didn’t I?

“Well, we didn’t _do_ anything, but he said he liked my eyes and said he liked my tail. I told him I thought his tail was much prettier than mine. And I think he said it was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to him.”

“I see.”

There’s a pause that lasts long enough to make me uncomfortable.

“He fixed a gauntlet for me that he’d torn during our fight, and I complimented his work.” I hold out my gauntlet, and Rai glances at it.

“Hmm.”

More silence. _What is this? And why am I feeling so guilty? I didn’t do anything wrong!_

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“Well, I haven’t been there to witness this myself, so I don’t know that this is true. I’m not sure you’re aware, but Kira is a quite conservative and isolated Ribikan community. Their customs are very different from others in Sisa. I have heard that complimenting a Kiran cat on his or her tail is akin to a marriage proposal, or can indicate sexual interest and attraction.”

At those words, I can feel my face heating up. If my ears were still their normal color, they’d be pink right now.

“Oh, my gods. I didn’t know that. So did he propose to me?” Did I accidentally propose to him??

“It’s complicated,” Rai explains. “From what I understand, it really depends on the exact words exchanged. If he called your tail interesting or if he liked it, it has a different meaning than if he called it pretty or beautiful. I believe ‘tail’ is a euphemism for ‘ass,’ which is how that saying came about.”

I’m horrified. Especially considering what he and I were just doing earlier, Rai really must not have a very high opinion of me now.

“Do you think that Asato thinks I’m... Well, do you think he thinks I want him to...  Erm. What I'm trying to say is... Do you think he thinks I like him like in _that_ way?”

“Dunno. But it might explain why he attacked me the way he did, in the condition he was in.”

I think silence is a pretty good idea right now. I cover my face with my hands, bowing my head. I can’t even look at Rai right now— _how the hell have I gotten myself into this mess?_

“You know, for someone so young, you have quite a number of cats vying for your hand.”

I jerk my head up at that remark. But Rai has a smile on his face. _He thinks this is funny?? Is he making fun of me?_

“Or your tail, in this case.” Rai lets a tiny snort escape after this clever remark. Oh, my gods!  _He laughs at his own jokes?!_

“You think this is funny?” I’m annoyed.

“It is funny!” Rai covers his mouth with a hand. I can tell he's not trying to be mean. I sense another emotion there, too— _relief_ , maybe? But why would he be relieved? “I mean, stupid is as stupid does. An idiot will always be an idiot.”

To my utter surprise and shock, he laughs out loud—a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s not a cruel or mean laugh, but a genuine one. It’s full of relief: the feeling simply radiates from his body, as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders—and it is a gorgeous sound. His face looks like a different cat when he laughs, too. He’s still elegant and handsome, but he looks _amazingly_ carefree. I’d _love_ to see him laugh more.

I'm still irritated that he thinks this is funny, but instead of getting angry, I find his laughter contagious. I can’t help it, probably because he just looks too beautiful to be angry. A giggle slips out of me as well. Soon, I’m laughing along with him, tears rolling down my face.

“Listen,” Rai says. “Just between you and me. I know you owe your friend a debt, and I’m glad he saved your life. I understand why you want him to join us. You should know that I’m not pleased with him coming along. I don’t trust him. I don’t like how he turns off all his emotion like a switch when he fights. It’s like he becomes someone else. I think he’s dangerous.”

I start to open my mouth in protest, and I feel Rai’s finger touch my lips to silence me.

“Let me finish. I will respect your decision. I will allow it. But if that black cat does _anything_ , anything at all, to hurt you, I will kill him without hesitation. You are my Sanga,  and too valuable to put at risk. Do you understand?”

Am I valuable to Rai _only_ because I am a Sanga? I feel something in my heart slipping, and the cliff below is a long, long drop. I still feel Rai’s finger against my lips. I wonder how it would feel if I slipped it into my mouth, or what he’d do if I licked it. Just before I get a chance, he removes it, and instead, moves his hand to my head to pet my ears.

Gods, I love the feel of his hands on my ears. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s just so comforting. I hated it at first. It felt intrusive like he was invading my personal space, pushing in where he didn’t belong. But now, it feels like he _belongs_ there. And not just belongs: like he’s always been _meant_ for that space. It’s weird.

The strokes on my ears soothe my heart. The comforting warmth makes me momentarily forget that steep drop my heart was about to drop from, and instead, I find myself relaxing into his caresses.

I close my eyes a moment, just for a moment, relishing the feeling. I want to just enjoy it. Suddenly, I feel powerful arms snake around me, pulling me in close. I don’t resist him, though a surprised sound comes out of my throat. I hate those noises—they are so _embarrassing_!

He’s pulled me between his legs, so he can easily reach my ears with his mouth, and I feel his tongue reaching out to lick my ear—I hear a soft clicking sound before the dampness hits me. My shoulder raises itself against the touch, but he pushes it down gently, encouraging me to relax.

I submit, letting him groom my ears, and my thoughts start to wander. This must just be something cats from Setsura do. Perhaps I’ll ask Bardo when we return to Ransen. He’s a large breed similar to Rai, and I bet he’s from there as well. Or maybe it’s something all cats do, and I just never experienced it, since I lost my family at such a young age.

It feels so nice. The rhythmic touches are sweet and gentle, although occasionally his tongue slips deep into my ear and it kind of tickles—it kind of doesn’t, too, though I don’t know how to describe that feeling. He runs his hands through my hair at the same time, smoothing it out, making it soft. I notice that since he’s been grooming me, my hair is much softer and shinier—he must groom his own hair frequently and much more often and thoroughly than I do. Or maybe his saliva is different from my own. Or perhaps he doesn’t sleep well, and he grooms instead of sleeping. That last thought bothers me, causing another stinging pain in my chest—the thought of him lying awake at night, unable to sleep. Does he have nightmares?

My thoughts continue to wander, and before he even gets to my second ear, I’ve drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the game pretty closely--in fact, I quote the dialog--but from Rai's POV, rather than Konoe's. They meet Firi in the forest.
> 
> I hope this is OK. :)

I carry my small sleeping Sanga back to camp, where the black cat is resting quietly. I lay him down a reasonable distance from the fire—far enough away so he will feel comfortable when he wakes, but close enough to keep him warm.

The black cat eyes me evilly as I approach, and addresses me rudely.

“What did you do to him? Did you hurt Konoe?” He struggles to his feet and walks over to where I've laid the soundly sleeping cat.

“Shut up,” I reply. “He’s fine. He's sleeping. We were only talking. Don't wake him. He’s had a long day, and he needs rest.”

That stupid black cat examines Konoe closely, but at least he is quiet. I’ll give him that much.

I take my turn at watch, leaving the two below to rest and recover. And it isn’t long before I detect another presence. It isn’t a cat, nor is it friendly.

“Wasting time in a place like this? How carefree!”

I notice my Sanga jump to his feet suddenly, so I leap down from my spot in the tree at the sound of the stranger’s high-pitched voice. The black cat is immediately on guard as well.

“Here I am,” comes the stranger's voice again.

It’s a ridiculous-looking figure, clad in a red and black harlequin outfit, floating mid-air, in the forest grove, and he takes an exaggerated, theatrical bow. What the hell is with this character?

“You...” My Sanga’s fur is adorably bristled out, and he is growling angrily. From his response, this must be Firi, the lizard-like figure he mentioned to me earlier. _I need to stop looking at Konoe like that. I'm too easily distracted. This could be dangerous, and I'm sitting here, watching how adorable my Sanga looks._

“Oh, you have more friends! Are they reliable? Reassuring? Good for you!“ The clown figure looks to me and the black cat in turn, with a smile as fake as his tone of voice. I am shocked to see how angry and out of control my Sanga is towards this person. He lunges at him in full force, claws drawn and fangs bared.

“Konoe!” The black cat shouts.

“Whoah!” The clownish figure dodges the small cat’s claws in the air smoothly, but Konoe looks undeterred. “Oooh, scary! But don’t get so angry! I didn’t come to fight.”

The black cat catches Konoe’s shoulder, preventing him from another attack. I flinch when I see him touch my Sanga so casually, though honestly, I think Konoe is being a bit too aggressive, as well. I really don't like that black cat touching him like that.

“Konoe, it’s no good.” The black cat's words are likely meant to calm him down, and they seem to do the trick.

“Right, right. No reason to get impatient. Although, it must be hard just standing around when your time’s running out.” What an odd thing to say. I wonder what the lizard-creature means. His time is running out? That seems like a bad omen.

“You... what do you want?” Konoe growls. Gods, he's _adorable_ when he's mad. I try not to think about it too much. It's distracting.

“You look like you’re trying your hardest. In particular, I came to this forest to hear what that old cat had to say.”

 _He knows about the shaman, too?_ I find my hand sliding to the hilt of my sword as I fix my eye on the annoying clown. I verify with Konoe, “Is this the guy you told me about?”

“Huh? More people are talking about me? That makes me very happy.” The clown cuts in gleefully.

“Shut up!” Konoe growls. He really doesn't like this clownish lizard, does he? Firi just laughs.

“You... I feel something bad about you.” The black cat interjects, growling. That's more than obvious, isn't it? The black cat's sixth sense is going off again, and I roll my eyes to the heavens.

“What is this? I haven’t even done anything.” The lizard boy looks offended.

“Konoe is suffering, and you’re related to it somehow, right?” The black cat looks back at him accusingly. There he goes. Gods.

“That’s so mean. You’re saying it’s my fault? Oh, now I feel like crying.” He sounds overly dramatic. _What kind of interaction is this?_ “I only intend to kindly guide you ahead. Jeez, you should be thanking me instead.”

“Whose messenger are you?” I ask. Let's stop fucking around and get down to what's important here. I'm sure this character _can't_ be the one behind all my Sanga's curse. He's just _too_ ridiculous. And stupid. Way too stupid.

“You want to know? Guess you really want to know, huh. Fine. I’ll finally tell you. Now be quiet until I finish.” He gestures deep into the woods, back toward the route we are taking. “You plan to go this way, right? Go on. There’s something good waiting just a stone’s throw away.”

“Something good?” Konoe’s voice echoes, full of suspicion. Yet he still manages that cute little echo at a time like this. Gods, it's _adorable_. This would be so much easier if he weren't so cute.

“Yep. But I can’t tell you what. Because that would be boring, right?” The clown looks at the black cat, receiving only bared fangs and a growl in return. “Aah, you’re so scary! Anyway. Go there and see.”

“It’s a trap.” I’m sure of it, so I say so directly. Gods, what are we going to do now? They knew the way we were going? This is a set-up? So the stupid shaman set us up? Or was it whoever this ridiculous lizard-creature's boss is?

“Who knows? It’s your choice to believe me or not. In the first place, my telling you this is like a final act of mercy. And it was from me, you know.” The clown’s words make little sense to me. But with them, he kicks off the ground and gestures toward the road. “Master _Leaks_ is looking forward to meeting you, so come quickly.”

“Leaks?” My little Sanga’s voice echoes again. And he actually has echoed something _important_ this time. The name sends chills down my spine. A sense of dread creeps up my spine when I hear that echo from his lips.

I hear Firi chuckle, as he somersaults and disappears into the darkness, the black cat desperately chasing after him. "Wait!" 

“He got away.” Asato sounds annoyed, letting out a growl.

But we have some information we didn’t have before. _Leaks. That magician?_

“Leaks...” The echo comes again—gods, he is _so cute_ when he does that it’s distracting. I can hardly think. But _Leaks_. Shit. How the hell did my little kitten get caught up with _Leaks_? I look at my Sanga's face again.

“Leaks,” I repeat it as well. I can’t believe it. I don’t _want_ to believe it, and then he turns to face me.

“You know about him?” There's desperation in his tone. He _needs_ to know.

“It’s the infamous sorcerer.” I hesitate to say too much. I want to be honest, but I really don’t want to scare him.

“I heard about him from the elder, too,” Asato pipes in. “He’s the magician known as the child of darkness.”

Ok, I wasn’t going to tell him _that_. He’s a legend among the cats of Sisa, known to live alone in the forest since ancient times, harboring everyone ill will.

“If that is the true identity of the mastermind that the shaman was speaking about, this could spell trouble.” I hate to be blunt, but it must be said. I sheath my sword, and I’m angry. How could this young cat be involved with Leaks? “He makes full use of forbidden magic and summons souls... summons ancient devils. He’s unmatched in his cold-blooded cruelty, and it said he's hidden himself for countless years behind a barrier, hating others from a distance.”

Oh, shit. I wasn’t intending to scare him, and all that just kind spilled out. Though I suppose he'd have to know all this at some point, sooner or later. Knowing this now will help him make better, rational decisions. At least I hope it will.

“This Leaks, does he really exist?” Konoe asks, his voice full of apprehension.

“That’s just what he said. But he’s so shrouded in mystery that no one knows what he looks like, where he is, or if he even real. Now, this...” I glance up at the sky. Since I’ve gotten this far, I might as well keep going. “There is a rumor that the Void eroding the world may be one of Leaks' schemes.”

“The Void?” Again, that echo. He sounds terrified, but I hear him take a deep breath. Good. He's not going to panic. Nice job, Kitten.

“The words of that clown earlier. They’ve _definitely_ set up a trap by now.” I’m sure of it, but what should we do? What does Konoe want to do? Ultimately, this is his decision, I realize. It’s _his_ fight, and I’ll let _him_ decide.

“Whatever it is, even if it is a trap, it doesn’t matter.” Of course, his answer is as reckless as ever. He’s going to die young, for sure. So brash. So stupid. So...

“Desperate?” If he wants to die so much, I’ll make him explain his logic to me first.

“It’s _different_! Even if we run away, there’s no getting out of this. Let’s question and _crush_ him.” Well. This is unexpected. For a small cat like him to have _this_ kind of gumption and what? _Bloodlust_? Is that what I feel coming from his small form? Not bad. Not bad at all. I think I can live with this, and I can go along with it. Hmm. I feel something terrifying rising in the core of my being.

“Leaks?” I ask, and I can’t keep the pleasure and expectation from my voice.

“Leaks is Konoe’s enemy?” The stupid black cat has been quiet till now. I assumed it was because he couldn’t follow our conversation. But I have to admit, I’m pleased to hear the bloodlust in his tone as well. “The curse is because of Leaks, too?”

“Probably.” Konoe answers.

The black cat turned to sharpen his claws in the closest tree trunk. The fuck is he doing? He sure takes Konoe's curse personally. I bet he thinks he owes Konoe something.

“I’ll kill him. No matter what kind of cat he is. I _won’t_ forgive him for making Konoe suffer.” Wow. _I knew it._ I was totally right when I was talking to my little Sanga about that black cat’s feelings for him. I can’t help the words that fly from my mouth next.

“You’ve trained him well.” I'm addressing Konoe.

“It’s not like that!” The small cat is flustered and embarrassed, but he _knows_ I’m right.

“Why don’t you become an animal trainer?” I keep going. I just _love_ seeing him embarrassed. He’s so cute when he blushes. I see a little pink on his chest as well.

“That’s one word too many, you.” Oh? That’s bordering on disrespect, but I have to laugh.

“Heh. Four devils, and Leaks pulling all the strings? Interesting.” It really _is_ interesting. It's hard to believe, actually. Like a fairytale or something. I wonder if the devil _I_ want is involved in this mess...

“That’s someone _else’s_ business.” The little cat snaps at me.

“Someone _else’s_ business, huh?” Has he forgotten already that _his_ business is _my_ business? Has he forgotten our talk _already_? Are we _really_ going to have to go over this again? Don’t get me wrong—I don’t mind. I don't mind _at all_. We can do it right _here_ , right _now_. It’s just—

“I’m not in someone else’s business!” My thoughts are interrupted by that black cat's outburst.

“Stupid cat.” I can’t help that phrase dropping from my lips more and more frequently, either.

“... I’ll kill you.” He answers back. And part of me believes he would, sparks fly between us. I'm anxious to get this battle started, here with this black cat, who wants _my_ Sanga.

“Give me a break!” Still flustered, and now angry, Konoe steps between us, physically keeping us apart. He’s right. I need to keep my cool and save it for that “something good” trap up ahead.

Konoe climbs up into the tree to take a turn at watch, leaving the two of us by the dwindling fire. I keep my distance from the black cat, and he from me. I let my mind wander as I watch the fire die down.

 _Leaks_. He's a formidable enemy. Would I have chosen a Sanga with this kind of burden if I’d known I’d have to fight four devils _and_ Leaks to win him over? I’m not so sure, but I’m committed at this point. And this isn’t just  _any_ Sanga. This one is special. I’m sure he’s a genuine Sanga. He can grant the power I need to conquer this insanity I have inside me—I know it—but even more than that, there’s something more.

He’s _warm_. Even now, while he’s up in that tree, and I’m down here. It’s too _far_ from me. I want him closer. And, even in this short amount of time we've had together, he's allowed me to get close to him. He's let me experience that warmth, lets me bask in it, lounge in it, relax in it. He shares his warmth with me. It's so different than the warmth I've experienced in battle and elsewhere in life.

I glance across the remaining embers at Asato, whose eyes are closed. And my heart aches. I wonder, would my Sanga share his warmth with _that_ cat, too? Is _that_ why he is here with us? I think of how fervently that cat wants to kill Leaks, and while I’m grateful for his support, he’s  _very_ attached to Konoe. Why? It feels like there’s something more. Something my little Sanga hasn’t told me. Even still. Even now.

Am I treating him well enough? Is my discipline too strict? Would he switch to that black cat just to be adored, even if it meant he’d never learn to use his gift the way it’s meant to be used? If only to be adored? Would he desert me? Have I got this wrong?

Or, am I too soft? Should I have punished him _in front_ of the black cat, to let them _both_ see who is in charge here? That _I’m_ the one in charge, that _I_ set the rules, _I_ set the standards? That way the black cat will keep his hands to himself, and Konoe will keep his eyes from wandering? 

I should have spanked him earlier. When we were talking in the grove. I wanted to touch him _more_ , and I don’t know how to get closer to him. I ended up only grooming his soft ears. Those funny, oversized, black ears of his—I could groom those all night. I wanted _more,_ moreof _him_.

And how far would we have gone if that black cat hadn’t interrupted us earlier? I wonder, how much did he _see_? Did he see me spanking those perfectly rounded cheeks from pale white to pink and then to red? Did he see me stroking him, and then kissing him? If he saw us, is that why he is so aggressive now? Did he see Konoe's protests when I stopped? I can't get the image of his face, half-lidded, lips swollen, protesting, saying, "No—I want more," out of my mind.

I think back about that last discipline session, and it was rather  _glorious_ —Konoe’s submission, his cries, his tears, his sobs, and finally, his kissing me, melting in my arms, grinding against me on my lap. It was rather amazing. Gods, it felt so good. I want to be back there now. I keep those images in my mind as the night passes—and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along the lines of the game--only from Rai's POV. The trio reaches the village and finds Leaks' surprise waiting for them there.

I’m awoken when the smaller cat decides it’s time to go. Actually, it’s when he noisily jumps down from the tree. That guy is so _noisy_ for a cat! I probably should train him to be a little quieter. The fire has burned itself out, and we head back to the path in the forest. I keep my pace a few strides ahead of my Sanga—especially now that I _know_ we’re walking into a trap. The black cat walks a few steps behind him, covering our party from the rear.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not the end of the world to have added an extra cat to our party, but I just don’t like the feeling I get from this black cat. Maybe I’m jealous of the attention he lavishes on _my_ Sanga, but it’s more than that. I think my Sanga enjoys it, as well. I also think he encourages it. I'll have to have a little _talk_ with him about that later.

Soon enough, the path opens up and a village comes into view. It’s eerily quiet. The air is filled with tension, and glancing behind me, I see the small cat’s tail bristle out sweetly behind him. Gods, he’s _adorable_.

I shake my head to clear that thought and continue walking. The black cat has been watching him sway his hips the way he does during this _entire_ walk, and _that_ irks me.

As we approach the village, I can’t sense the presence of other cats, even as we get closer. Perhaps it’s because it’s dark? However, it’s awfully strange to see a village as deserted as this one appears.

I watch with some amusement as my Sanga proceeds to scare the living shit out of the one town inhabitants who sneaks up behind us. The old man so frightened that he falls back on his ass when he gets a load of us. We must look like bandits to him, especially with our weapons drawn.

He proceeds to beg for his life, begging us not to kill him. As soon as Konoe helps him up, however, he becomes friendly. I ask him if he knows of the place we’re looking for, the Field of Four Colors.

He does, he says, but we can only see it during the day, as it’s a space that is surrounded by rocks with surfaces smooth like mirrors, and the colors only reflect the moon of _light_. Why not spend the night in one of the empty homes while we wait for the moonrise?

“We’ll stay,” pronounces the small cat. I notice only _after_ he makes his pronouncement does he look to me for approval. I have no objections, so I say nothing.

The old man leads us to a large, empty home.

“Let’s hope nothing happens,” I mutter to myself within hearing of my Sanga. He’s gonna get it if it does.

There are two beds in the spacious home. Konoe takes the larger one for himself—perhaps he’s secretly hoping to share it with me—while I hunker down underneath the window (I like to be able to see the moon and see what’s going outside at night), and the black cat takes a corner.

 _Funny_ , I think. Our spaces strangely suit our personalities.

At daybreak, there’s a loud, irregular knocking sound from the front door. Strange, since _none_ of us have sensed any presence outside.

My little Sanga makes a strange, strangled sound and bolts upright in bed. His hair is in disarray, and his voice is thick from sleep. “What’s going on?” Is this what he usually looks like in the morning? The fact that he could sleep so soundly astounds me, quite frankly. He’s just so _innocent_. I think that’s part of what draws me to him.

The black cat is already awake and alert, on edge, and like me, is scoping out the situation. I peek out the window, and I can’t help baring fangs and drawing claws at the sight.

There’s a hand grasping through the window, which draws another sound from my Sanga.

Gods, those noises are simply _too_ distracting—this one also makes my heart skip a beat. I glance at the black cat, and it’s apparent they have the same effect on him. Jeez.

The sounds at the door grow louder, straining the hinges at the door, but why doesn't whoever it is just _open_ it and come in? It’s not even locked!

When the door finally opens, it’s the old cat from last night—but he’s _not_ the same. His eyes are rolled back in his head, his head bowed low, his tail droops. Also, his skin is rather grossly decayed. He looks dead, like a puppet in a string.

“What _is_ this?” The small cat can’t keep the horror out of his voice. _This_ must be the surprise that clown was talking about.

“This guy is already dead,” the black cat is kind enough to explain.

“But, he’s _moving!_ ” Even more horror and fear courses through the small cat’s body, and I can see his body shiver.

“He’s been brought back to life.” That’s right. I always forget—Kira and Meiji are so close to each other, this cat must have experience with witchcraft.

“You can _do_ something like that?” He is astounded. Again, his innocence astounds me.

Drawing my dagger, I explain, “It’s magic. Manipulated by magic. This was probably what that clown was talking about.”

Just when the words leave my lips, a song sounds in my ears. It’s horribly dark, but it's definitely a Sanga’s tune. It must be what’s controlling the dead. If I’m not mistaken, I'm sure they will begin their attack. 

“So _that’s_ what it is.” I pounce on the cat in front of me, drawing my sword, as soon as he bares his fangs in an attack. I hit him right in the thigh—he doesn’t even _try_ to evade my blade—he falls to the floor, moving sluggishly. What kind of revolting game is this?

I hear a groaning sound from behind me. Again, it’s my Sanga, clutching his chest, just like he did the first day I met him, and he stumbles, falling to his knees in desperate pain. Is there something else he hasn’t told me?

The black cat calls out his name desperately, grabbing his shoulder. Get your hands off him!

“I’m okay,” my Sanga says, bravely, but he looks terrible.

“Stop!” He suddenly yells in my direction, _just_ as I’m about to slash the cat before me in two to sate my anger and bloodlust, as well as my irritation with the black cat.

“It’s too late for that. He’s already dead,” I say pointedly.

“You’re wrong. It’s not like that. This guy is just being controlled!” He argues. He’s _arguing_ with me—here and now? About _this_?

“Then what do you intend to do with them?” I ask, pointing my blade in the direction of the doorway. Dozens of cats from the village wait outside, heading in our direction, all in the _same_ state, all being controlled, all already dead.

Another discouraged sigh escapes the small cat’s lips as he looks outside. He’s absolutely devastated. I don’t understand what is affecting him like this.

“Leaks?” He asks, voice filled with grief. “Was _this_ what Firi was talking about?”

“Konoe...” Asato calls his name gently, once again. It irks me to hear _my_ Sanga’s name from that black cat’s mouth. And I’m holding my longsword. It would be such a _simple_ thing for me to take care of it, right here, right now… I try to restrain myself.

“ _Why_? What did these guys do wrong? _Why_?” The pitch of his voice is raising higher and higher. He’s panicking, and I have to calm him down.

“It has _nothing_ to do with right and wrong,” I pronounce, as sorry as I am to hear his little heart breaking. He needs to see the reality of the situation. That will clear his head. “Only the strong survive, and the weak will be eliminated. _That_ is reality.”

“Then the strong can do whatever they want?!” Konoe bursts out, angrily. At least he’s angry, not full of that hopeless grief. I’ve seen _anger_ is what spurs him into action.

“That’s right.” It’s a harsh lesson, but the sooner he learns it, the better. Stay with someone _strong_ , like me, who can protect you from this harsh reality. Somehow, I still hate to see his innocence crushed like this.

And just as that thought crosses my mind, another devastated sound escapes his lips. It makes my heart ache.

The old cat on the ground lunges at me, grabbing my leg with his hand, and I unceremoniously chop it off. At least that provides me with a little relief.

“Sleep,” I say to the old cat, and I sever his head from his body. My Sanga turns his face away, and I hear his breath catch. If he can’t deal with _this_ sort of magical power, he’s not going to be strong enough to face Leaks later on, since this is what that magician is known for. Looking in Konoe’s direction, I open my mouth.

“Even if this _is_ Leaks’ trap, I don’t understand his intention. But those without power are just toys to kill the boredom for the powerful. That includes us, of course.”

“Konoe, if you don’t do it, we’re done for,” the black cat chimes in. “Words and feelings are _not_ weapons. You can’t defend with them. Me, I decided I wouldn’t give up when I decided not to kill Konoe. So for this reason, I’ll fight. The dead can’t be revived. That’s what the elder taught us.” Occasionally, the black cat does have something helpful to add, I admit begrudgingly.

Another one of those devastated little sounds escapes from the small cat’s full lips, yet he _still_ hesitates. Does he perhaps feel something for these creatures?

Giving him a moment, I watch a range of emotions flit across his beautiful face—sadness, hopelessness, despair, and grief, then _finally_ , anger and rage. He straightens his spine, squares his shoulders, and draws his sword. His ears twitching in anger, his tail bristling, and his claws drawing, and he spits out angrily, “ _Leaks_!”

There’s my cute, spunky Sanga! I watch proudly as he hisses and leaps out of the house. I'm right on his heels.

“This song is…” His voice trails off, once the evil-sounding melody fills his ears. I’d love to cover them, pressing him against my chest, but we don’t have time for that. I’m sure he’s realized it’s a Sanga’s melody, and it’s what is controlling the creatures.

“Likely...” I answer, not wanting to give him too much information, not wanting to frighten him more than he already is. “We’ll talk later. There aren’t many of them. If we split up and fight, this will be over soon.” I rush into battle, slaying as many already-dead cats as I can so my Sanga won’t have to do much work.

Once the deed is finished, both the black cat and I rush up to the small cat. His tail is drooping, his face is pale, and he looks exhausted. Of course, we are all harried, since decapitation is the only way to truly stop these creatures.

“Are you all right, Konoe?” The black cat is all over him at once. So irritating. Stupid cat.

“Yeah.” The small cat's voice sounds tired, pained, exhausted.

“If there ever was an image of hell, _this_ is it,” I state matter-of-factly. I often enjoy a good battle, but this? This was senseless carnage.

“The song’s gone.” My Sanga is right. I perk up my ears.

“They were manipulated by that song,” I state the obvious.

“Who was singing?” The small cat looks in my direction, hoping I won’t give him the answer on the tip of my tongue.

“It was probably Leaks.” I have to be honest with him.

“Leaks? _How_?” I hear the fear crawling through his tone.

“Ask him yourself. Is he a Sanga? Or does he have an equivalent ability? But even so, this was overkill. We were completely tricked.” I’m disgusted. There’s blood everywhere, a mountain of bodies even _I_ find repulsive.

My little Sanga responds by clenching his fists and his teeth angrily. He _almost_ looks like he will lose himself to his anger.

“ _Stop_ , Konoe.” The black cat urges, grasping his small shoulder. “I felt something was wrong. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” comes the muttered answer once again.

“What is sleeping?” The black cat asks. What an odd question.

“Sleeping?” There’s the little echo again.

“Inside Konoe. What is it?” The black cat insists.

“What’s there, what’s going on?” My Sanga’s voice rises into a panic once again. “What did you feel? What’s inside me, Asato?” He grabs the black cat by the shoulders and shakes him.

“Konoe.” Asato tries to calm him once more. Gods, they are touching each other _so_ much. I have to turn my face away.

“Oy,” I grab their attention. “Look over there.” The mountain of bodies has evaporated, turning transparent, as if it were all an illusion. The blood and gore soaking the earth has completely disappeared.

Suddenly, the small cat drops to his knees, looking pained.

“What’s wrong, hey!” It’s the stupid black cat’s turn to panic, but I notice we have company. Whoever it is certainly knows how to make an entrance—distorting space is the _only_ way to travel for a magician, I suppose.

“Have you enjoyed my bit of entertainment?” A deep, melodious voice rings out.

The Sanga makes it back onto his feet, as the magician steps out of the distorted space onto the ground. I notice the black cat keeps his hands on my Sanga’s back for support. Gods, he can’t keep his hands off him! Konoe’s tail is fluffed up and swollen, I notice. It better _not_ be a result of being touched so often by the Kiran cat.

“You bastard,” I hiss. My irritation is not only about the battle anymore.

“Not satisfied? Getting it just right was difficult,” the black shadow answers.

“That’s right!” I recognize that high pitched voice as the clown’s, who shows up in a similar distorted space bubble. “I’m a little late. My deepest apologies, Master Leaks.” He nestles himself at the feet of the black shadow.

“Leaks?” My little Sanga questions, almost fearfully.

“I never thought you’d appear,” I say, honestly surprised. I deliberately keep my voice even, loud, and strong.

“I consider it a modest reward. As promised, since you are the first to entertain me, in all the centuries that I’ve lived.”

He’s not a large cat, more a medium build. He has the same ash blond hair as my Sanga, only in a long braid, wrapped several times around his neck like a scarf, and a black tail. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, and a metal mask obscures his face.

“I’m so glad! You’re glad, too, right? You’ve entertained Master Leaks.” The clown claps his hands with joy.

“Why have you done this?” Konoe asks, and it sounds as though his words were hard to form through his pain. What is _wrong_ with him?

“As I’ve said, to entertain myself. Let this be my greeting, my welcome to you.” The deep voice answers.

“Welcome? Greeting?” That sweet little echo, even when he’s suffering from pain like this?

“Deprived, having tasted what was broken. But it would certainly pain me to kill you now.”

“Don’t screw with me. The cats of this village were killed with just that thought in your mind?” My little cat sounds enraged, but all he receives in response is an evil laugh.

“Master Leaks sang by himself. You guys should be happier,” the clown interjects.

“That song was _your_ doing?” I can’t help myself.

“Did you enjoy it?” Leaks asks. I can hear him smiling behind that mask.

I glare at him pointedly. “Are you a Sanga?”

To my surprise, the clown raises his hand, and shouts, “Yes! I am. I am Master Leak’s Sanga. But Master Leaks can produce a song and sing, too.” He bows proudly. Ridiculous! And why is _his_ Sanga nestled at the shadow’s feet, when mine is all touchy-feely with a stupid cat from Kira? I feel my irritation rising even further.

“That was an evil song,” Konoe says, vehemently. I’d have to agree with his statement.

“If the purpose of a Sanga’s song is to bestow power, then my song is to force obedience. Manipulating the dead is simple, especially those who feel strong, lingering regret.” Turning to my Sanga, Leaks continues, “You feel it more than anyone, don’t you? The effects of empathy?”

A sound of stunned surprise issues from the small cat’s mouth, and I wonder what exactly Leaks is referring to. Is this something _else_ Konoe is hiding from me? Again, we are overdo for a talk.

“I know everything _about_ you,” Leaks continues.

“What do you—“ But he doesn’t get a chance to finish his question. He puts his hands to his head before finishing his question and allows the black cat to support him in his arms.

“ _You_. Are _you_ the one hurting Konoe? With the curse, too? Everything.” The black cat stares him down.

“I don’t regret that he must suffer. This is a test.” The tone of that magician’s voice rings cold, even to my heart.

“For what?”

“Come now. If I reveal that, it won’t be as interesting.”

“It won’t be interesting? Break the curse!” The black cat growls in anger, baring fangs.

The magician points at Konoe. “You hold the key. Can you pass safely through the turning point ahead? It all depends on _you_. The Field of Four Colors. A door will open there.”

He rises up, ready to leave. I shout, “Running away?” I try to catch him with my longsword, but I’m too late. Even though it looks like I get a direct hit his body, it merely splits in two, and he evaporates into smoke, and then into space the way he came.

“It is not yet time,” His voice and evil-sounding laughter echoes throughout the deserted village.

“That’s too bad. Later!” The annoying clown takes his leave as well.

I chase the small space bubbles as they lead through the village—that’s where we’re headed anyway. My strides are longer and faster than the other two cats, and I try to keep up with the bubbles, hoping to see where they are headed. Finally, however, they disappear into the sky.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows along the line of the game--however, this is the first time Rai and Konoe meet Ul and Kil, the Sanga and Touga pair, so I've rewritten it somewhat. The dialogue is partly from the game, however.

I spend some time giving chase, but end up losing both Leaks and Firi in the end. I end up in a thickly wooded area, but I can hear my Sanga’s voice—and he is growling fiercely. I’d better see what kind of trouble he’s gotten himself into this time. I’ve been away from him for less than fifteen minutes, so it can’t be that bad, can it?

When I jump out into the clearing, I immediately draw my longsword. My Sanga looks up, his anxious face both stunned and filled with relief. I’m pleased to see his expression, I have to confess, especially after his interactions with the Kiran cat, but I don’t have time to think about that now.

“Who are these guys?” I ask, my voice ringing out loudly in the air, referring to the pair of cats standing opposite in the clearing.

“They introduced themselves as Leaks’ underlings,” the small cat answers. He is staring at me, wide-eyed, fangs bared, sword drawn. Gods, he's cute when he's all bristled like that. At first, I thought my presence simply surprised him, but now, I’m not so sure. His eyes are examining my body from the tip of my ears to the tip of my tail, almost like he’s checking me out. Could he really be interested in me in that way?

“What’s the matter?” I ask. 

“Ah—nothing,” he drops his eyes, with a look of slight embarrassment, and I think his cheeks are flushed. However, he keeps his body turned toward me. 

“Then face forward,” I suggest helpfully, nodding in the direction of our enemies.

“Ah—right,” his awkward movements are adorable, as he turns his body to face the pair.

I can sense the bloodlust in the air—there’s a pair of nearly identical cats, opposite us, that I’ve never seen before. They must be brothers, if not twins. I don't catch their names, but they are dressed in absolute rags. The one with orange hair has his dagger drawn, and the one with pale blue hair has both his wrists covered in bandages—from his hands all the way down to his elbows. They are exchanging words with one another.

“Who is this?”

“A Touga?”

“Let’s do it quickly.”

“Let’s do it.” 

The pair speaks in almost identical voices, making them sound even stranger than they look.

A creepy sensation floods my body. I watch as the blue-haired cat removes the bandage from his left arm, exposing a great number of scars, running horizontally and vertically. Rather grotesquely, he rakes the claws of his other hand across the injured arm, creating fresh wounds and opening up old scars, making blood drip on the ground. The cat’s eyes close, and he seems to go into a sort of trance, rather than experiencing the pain he is inflicting on himself. As I'm watching him, I realize he is a Sanga.

“What’s he doing?” Konoe’s face is filled with confusion. His eyes are glued to the cat injuring his arm.

“He’s a Sanga,” I explain. 

“A Sanga? That guy?” Konoe’s voice echoes my words, and his voice rings sweetly in my ears.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“The pain echoes, the pain shrieks. Pain plays within my body,” the blue-haired cat says, mesmerized.

Just then, the melody sounds, and my Sanga buckles over in pain—almost as though he’s been hit in the stomach. It’s a heavy, dark melody, which matches what I’d expect from such a singer.

“It’s a Sanga who sings through pain,” I explain, trying to keep the concern for my own Sanga out of my voice. He seems to recover well enough, standing upright shortly after the song begins. Is he physically affected by the emotions behind that horrible melody?

“Pain?” the small cat echoes again. 

Seriously, we are about to fight a well-bonded Touga and Sanga—who isn’t afraid of pain—pair, and I can’t let myself be distracted by those cute little echoes of his. I've got to get myself under control!

“A normal Sanga sings with instruments or their voice. But this guy reacts to the sensation of pain and associates it with a melody. It’s a dangerous thing. It sacrifices your own body for the sake of the song,” I explain, keeping my voice even and neutral.

“His own body?” the small cat, whose fur remains delightfully bristled, his tail swishing back and forth aggressively, repeats my words once again. I resist the temptation to plug my ears—though I would never do that. I could never do that. His voice is just too sweet.

“Eliminate, eliminate, tear them limb from limb! Created from my body, a song for us!” the blue-haired cat sings, and I can see a tendril of light flowing from his body to his brother.

“Can you sing?” I ask.

“I’ll try,” Konoe replies. He is facing me again, almost as though magnetically drawn to me.

“Then face forward,” I prompt again. He’s turned his body toward mine again—unconsciously, it appears.

“Ah—right,” his voice sounds embarrassed again, but he obeys. I watch as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His body is wrapped with a hot, white light, and I hear the beginning of a melody—his gentle melody. Before long, I detect a rhythm, and the warm light reaches out to me.

When I’m wrapped in my Sanga’s song—I am surrounded by warmth. It’s a feeling I can only describe as _warmth_. I don’t feel filled with my usual bloodlust and desire to kill, but instead, I feel a will to live, a will to survive—together with me. It’s something I’ve never experienced before—and I love the feeling.

My Sanga’s gentle melody—of warmth, survival, protection—is a stark contrast to the heavy blood melody of the blue-haired cat, whose green light has surrounded his Touga. The melodies overlap in the glade.

“You, you’re a Sanga? I didn’t know, cursed cat. We can’t lose to you. Kil and I absolutely won’t lose!” says the blue-haired Sanga.

I ready my sword and attack the enemy Touga. We exchange blows—and it appears the enemy is receiving assistance from the wind with the help of his Sanga. He moves quickly, and my blows, while they come close to connecting, are repelled. He can use it as a shield, but I’m able to match him with my speed, thanks to my Sanga’s song.

“He’s pretty able, your Sanga. In spite of being a cursed cat, he does quite well. But Ul will not lose,” the orange-haired cat comments. If he is still able to speak so calmly, then I’m not working him hard enough.

Just then, the blood melody changes, getting even stronger and darker. The blue-haired cat, formerly singing in ecstasy, looks anguished.

“I’ll bestow it, my blood resonating with screams and pain… Now, to my beloved Touga.”

The new melody increases the enemy’s power—making him even faster. I realize if I don’t come up with a plan, I will have to stay on the defensive. My energy is wearing thin—especially after the battle in the village—I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was.

Suddenly, my own Sanga’s melody changes and the light coming from his body brightens. He’s singing a new song—one I haven’t heard before. Lyrics echo softly in my heart and in my ears. A mass of light comes toward me, surrounding me, and flowing into my longsword.

Now, I can meet the enemy blow by blow, light flowing from our blades when they crash together. After only a short exchange, I’m able to disarm the Touga, sending his blade flying—and then—I aim for the Sanga.

I feel a delightful squishing sound when my blade sinks into his flesh, white light exploding. The dark melody is instantly cut off, and the blue-haired cat is coughing blood. 

The enemy Touga screams his name and rushes over.

“Ul, Ul, hey—“

The Touga raises the body of his beloved Sanga in his arms. I raise my sword overhead, intending to extinguish his life as well. Just before I swing my blade down, I hear a voice.

“Don’t!”

It’s my Sanga. I look up. He’s staring at me, fear in his eyes. Is he afraid—of me?

“Why not?” 

“If the Sanga has been defeated, you don’t need to fight the Touga. It’s the same as conceding defeat,” he explains, his voice loud and desperate.

Mercy? He wants to show mercy?

“These are Leaks’ minions.”

“That doesn’t matter. He won’t be able to fight without a Sanga!”

“Do you want to have to fight them a second time?”

“Just—stop!”

I lower my sword to the side for a moment, when I hear rustling in the bushes on the outside of the glade. It’s the Kiran cat.

Having waited for the right moment, the enemy Touga picks up the body of his Sanga, escaping into the thicket. I’m tempted to go after him.

“Is that okay? They are getting away,” Asato says. 

I can’t help boring my eyes into my Sanga. He avoids my gaze and says, “It’s fine. What about Leaks?”

“There’s no sign of him. Those cats just now…” Asato starts.

“What about them?”

“They were Meigi,” Asato speaks lowly but with authority. Meigi? The clan that has been feuding with Kira for years, are known for sorcery and pacts with devils.

“Meigi? They are demon worshipers. Why are they under Leaks’ command?” I ask—considering the implications of bringing such a clan into this battle.

“It’s a story from long ago. They have changed their religion’s object of worship, for what reasons, I don’t know. But lately, their movements changed a little too. They haven’t gone out other than to fight with Kira… Like this,” Asato continues.

“Wherever the cats are from, it doesn’t change the fact that they are Leaks’ minions,” I point out. We should have killed them.

“I have a bad feeling,” the Kiran cat responds, his ears flattening and his expression clouding.

A strange sound comes from the mouth of my Sanga, and he falls to the ground. He’s really overexerted himself with that new melody.

“Konoe?” The Kiran cat is instantly at his side. I'm disgusted with that black cat. He wasn't even here for that battle, and now he's fawning all over my Sanga again.

“He overexerted himself when he shouldn’t have,” I say, looking at the small cat’s pained face.

“Damn, every time?” My Sanga sounds frustrated.

“The song—when it changed, I felt a powerful light flowing into my sword and my body,” I say.

“Really? My song did that? Was it really that powerful?” My Sanga’s ears perk up.

“Dunno. How about asking someone like the Chief Sanga in Ransen? He should be able to help you,” I suggest.

“The Chief Sanga?” He must be getting some of his energy back since those cute echoes have started again.

“From generation to generation, a Sanga chosen from a particular clan stays by the Lord to protect them. Sometimes, they are entrusted with decisions that affect our county’s fate, so they are a pretty significant presence,” I explain patiently.

“A lineage of Sanga… Something like that exists?” The small cat can't keep the awe from his voice.

“There are Sanga who try to harness their power through training and force. Compared to a genuine Sanga, they’re insignificant,” I look directly at Konoe when I say, “genuine Sanga.” I know he is one. “It wasn’t bad, that song.”

A stunned sound comes from Konoe’s soft lips. I look at him in surprise. He’s acting like I never give him feedback.

“What?” I ask, somewhat annoyed.

“Ah—nothing,” my Sanga says, keeping his amazed expression but turning his face away from mine.

“You’re the worst!” Asato growls at me, moving closer to Konoe. “The worst Touga!”

I simply glare at the Kiran cat.

“Konoe is amazing, and you should treat him better! You were only able to win because of his song!” The black cat is pushing his luck by actually stating this out loud. I’m annoyed. I look away as the black cat pushes his nose against my Sanga's shoulder.

Looking at my Sanga, I ask, “Do you want to return to Ransen?”

“Huh? No. Why?” He meets my gaze, a questioning look on his face.

“Seems you’ve discovered your true gift as an animal trainer.” I smirk slightly. That black cat is still rubbing all over the smaller cat, much to my annoyance.

“You—that’s one too many words from you,” he huffs mightily, but I can see he’s embarrassed. The way the Kiran fawns over him is not normal.

Because of his exertions, we rest for the remainder of the day, allowing my Sanga to recover his strength. I don’t mind so much—it gives me a chance to rest, and consider the implications of a clan like the Meigi joining forces with Leaks. What could he possibly need with an entire clan of demon worshipers?


End file.
